AN  ERRANT  WOOING 


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THE  TOWEE  OF  COMARES,  ALHAMBRA. 

(See  last  page.) 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING 


BY  MRS.  BURTON  HARRISON 

AUTHOR  OF  "SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE,"  "A  BACHELOR  MAID," 
"CROW'S  NEST  AND  BELHAVEN  TALES,"  ETC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


NEW  YORK :   THE  CENTURY  CO. 
1895 


Copyright,  1894,  1895,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

THE  TOWER  OP  COMARES,  ALHAMBRA  Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

TRAFALGAR  SQUARE  4 

PICCADILLY  12 

WESTMINSTER  ABBEY,  FROM  PALACE  YARD  20 

AT  SHOTTERY  32 

ON  THE  AVON  40 

A  BIT  OF  RURAL  ENGLAND  72 

THE  ROCK  OF  GIBRALTAR  112 

TANGIER,  FROM  THE  KASBAH  120 

A  CORNER  OF  THE  SOKO,  TANGIER  124 

THE  MAIN  STREET  OF  TANGIER  144 

INTERIOR  OF  THE  MOSQUE  AT  CORDOVA  184 

THE  CATHEDRAL,  SEVILLE  188 

THE  TOWER  OF  GOLD,  SEVILLE  196 

THE  BANDERILLERO'S  CHARGE  208 

THE  BULL-RING,  SEVILLE  212 

THE  ALHAMBRA,  FROM  THE  GENERALIFE  224 

THE  GARDENS  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA,  GRANADA  BELOW  232 

THE  GALLERY  OF  THE  COURT  OF  LIONS,  ALHAMBRA  256 


2034542 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING 


AN  EKKANT  WOOING 


NE  day  of  jocund  spring  in  London, 
the  family  of  Mrs.  Arden  Standish  of 
"West  Thirty-third  street,  New  York, 
found  themselves  dolefully  groping 
about  their  lodgings  in  Mayfair,  in 
the  yellow  darkness  of  a  morning  fog. 
Having  recently  arrived  from  the  Italian  lakes,  the 
Standishes  had  wasted  some  little  time  as  units  of  the 
gilded  splendor  of  the  Hotel  Metropole  before  they 
unwittingly  acted  upon  the  injunction  laid  upon  them 
some  months  before  by  Lady  Watson-Jones,  a  baro- 
net's widow  with  whom  they  had  achieved  friendship 
at  a  table  d'hote  in  Rome. 

"  In  London  the  big  hotels  are  nasty,  and  the  little 
ones  are  dear,"  this  lady  had  observed,  that  day  in 
Rome,  while  pocketing  an  orange  to  carry  to  her 
room. 

She  was  a  large,  red-faced  woman  of  a  serious 
cast  of  countenance,  who  habitually  wore  tailor-made 
tweeds,  with  a  neck-chain  and  bracelets  of  Irish  bog- 
oak,  and  had  no  scruple  in  supplementing  her  gray- 
flaxen  hair  with  a  frankly  brown  chignon. 


2  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"Take  my  advice,"  she  added  impressively,  "go 
into  lodgings  somewhere  off  Piccadilly.  Then  you 
won't  have  to  pay  for  what  you  don't  eat,  and  it  ;s 
really  the  only  way  I  know  to  avoid  the  Americans." 

"  Mother  dear,  you  are  so  chicken-spirited ! "  Pau- 
lina had  let  fly,  when  they  regained  their  sitting-room. 
"  When  she  said  that,  you  looked  almost  apologetic. 
Why  in  the  world  did  n't  you  answer  back,  and  have 
it  out  with  the  rude  old  thing  ? " 

"  What  would  have  been  the  use  ?  I  could  never 
have  made  her  understand.  And  I  really  think  they 
have  an  idea  they  're  complimenting  one  when  they 
abuse  one's  countrymen." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  tired  of  being  a  shining  exception ! " 
Polly  then  called  out.  "  I  hate  to  be  set  apart  as  a 
person  who  has  escaped  contamination  by  a  miracle." 

"If  we  could  only  introduce  them  into  our  homes!" 
sighed  Mrs.  Standish. 

"  Oh,  mother  darling,  don't!"  Paulina  had  responded 
with  genuine  emotion. 

"There  was  that  earl's  daughter, — I  forget  her 
name;  Mrs.  M'Cantle  brought  her,"  mused  Mrs. 
Standish,  retrospectively ;  "  you  remember  they  came 
to  one  of  my  teas — the  one  when  Paderewski  played ; 
she  wore  an  old  astrakhan  jacket  with  a  white  silk 
muffler.  She  told  me  nobody  in  England  will  believe 
how  well  we  know  how  to  do  such  things  until  they 
come  to  New  York  and  see  for  themselves." 

"She  told  you!  And  you  smiled,  and  did  n't  re- 
buke her?" 

"  In  one's  own  house,  Polly  ?  " 

"Well,  you  let  her  go  away  and  say  the  same  thing, 


or  worse,  to  her  next  entertainer.  No,  mummy  dear ; 
you  have  the  most  angelic  temper,  and  the  most 
optimistic  spirit,  in  the  world,  or  you  7d  see  how 
these  dear  English  of  yours  lie  in  wait  to  be  horrid 
to  us  Americans.  The  best  of  them  we  meet  travel- 
ing are  hardly  above  a  little  stab  or  sneer.  They 
ask  questions  about  our  homes  and  habits  that  are 
as  ill-bred  as  they  are  prof oundly  ignorant." 

"Not  so  loud,  Polly  dear.     These  hotel  walls  — " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind  the  walls.  I  could  stand  it  from 
people  who  are  my  equals  in  culture  and  opportunity. 
But  when  it  comes  to  the  little  provincial  nobodies ! 
Why,  just  think  of  our  houses,  for  instance,  and  the 
way  we  live,  and  the  pictures,  and  books,  and  music, 
and  travel  we  have,  or  can  have  for  the  seeking  ;  and 
compare  it  with  what  most  of  them  have  in  their 
narrow  lives.  It  makes  me  want  to  laugh,"  and 
Polly  smiled  away  her  wrath. 

"I  can't  think  why  you  are  so  — " 

"So  what,  dear?" 

"  I  hardly  know  the  word  for  it.  It 's  just  like  your 
grandpapa,  and  a  little  bit  like  Roger." 

"  You  don't  mean  patriotic  ?  Or  is  it  pugnacious  ? 
Have  n't  I  an  Irish  ancestor,  mother  ?  I  do  so  long, 
on  these  occasions,  to  step  out  and  invite  somebody 
to  tread  on  the  tail  of  my  coat.  And  then  I  catch 
a  glimpse  of  your  mild,  distressed  countenance,  and 
pull  myself  together,  and  try  to  be  like  the  statu- 
esque English  girls  who  sit  at  table  beside  their 
mamas,  and  never  speak  except  to  ask  for  the  olives, 
or  to  admit  they  have  visited  a  certain  catacomb,  or 
church,  or  picture.  Never  mind.  My  education  is 


4:  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

progressing.  You  noticed  how  meek  I  was  to  Lady 
Watson-Jones." 

"When  you  see  English  people  in  their  own  homes, 
they  are  quite  different." 

"  I  hope  so,  I  'm  sure." 

"When  your  papa  and  I  visited  England  last,  we 
met  with  the  utmost  kindness.  I  have  never  been 
able  to  think  of  going  back  there  without  him,  until 
now." 

"  Well,  mother  dear,  for  your  sake,  in  future  I  will 
submit  to  be  snubbed  and  then  patted  on  the  head  by 
all  the  English  we  meet.  But  it  7s  an  awfully  de- 
pressing prospect,  and  you  must  not  expect  anything 
from  me  but  resignation.  If  I  am  outwardly  polite, 
I  shall  be  a  hollow  mockery  within." 

"  Polly,  how  can.  you  go  on  so  ?  I  mean  to  ask 
Lady  Watson-Jones,  to-morrow,  if  she  can  give  us 
any  good  addresses  in  London  of  places  where  we 
can  lodge.  There  is  one  in  Curzon  street  where  the 
Manhattans  always  go,  but  that  is  likely  to  be  full ; 
and  Clarges  street  is  where  your  dear  papa  and  I 
went — I  could  n't  go  back  there.  Paulina,  I  wish 
you  would  put  down  that  Baedeker  and  show  some 
interest." 

"  Put  down  my  Baedeker?  And  yet  you  wish  me 
to  be  like  an  English  girl  abroad ! " 

At  luncheon,  on  the  day  following  this  conversa- 
tion, Lady  Watson- Jones  had  voluntarily  resumed  her 
patronage. 

"  I  've  been  thinking  over  places  for  you  to  stop  in 
London,  and  there  's  one  in  Half  Moon  street,  where 
they  don't  generally  take  in  Americans ;  but  I  'in  sure 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  5 

there  will  be  no  objection  if  you  mention  my  name 
or  Lady  Jenkins's.  Sir  Thomas  and  Lady  Jenkins 
have  been  going  there  for  the  season,  for  I  don't  know 
how  many  years.  This  year  Lady  Jenkins's  leg  is  so 
bad  she  's  quite  fearful  they  may  n't  get  up  to  town 
at  all.  I  could  really  recommend  Lady  Jenkins's  floor. 
The  number  of  the  house  has  popped  out  of  my  head, 
but  no  wonder,  after  the  fright  I  've  just  had  about 
leaving  my  binocular  in  the  cab  coming  back  from 
the  Appian  Way ;  but  I  '11  look  it  up  for  you,  and  you 
need  have  no  fear  but  what  the  landlady  will  be  quite 
civil  when  she  knows  you  come  through  me  from 
Lady  Jenkins. " 

Some  time  later,  Lady  Watson-Jones,  on  her  way  to 
Florence  in  a  second-class  compartment,  with  a  rack 
full  of  anomalous  bags  and  bundles  over  her  head, 
had  steamed  out  of  the  Roman  station  and  Paulina's 
thoughts. 

The  Standishes,  taking  Venice  and  Verona  on  the 
way,  had  been  translated  into  a  world  of  bloom  at 
Cadenabbia,  thence  through  the  St.  Gotthard  to  Lu- 
cerne and  Paris,  and  thus  to  British  shores. 

In  addition  to  her  sentimental  desire  to  revisit  the 
scene  of  a  connubial  pilgrimage,  Mrs.  Standish  had 
a  wish  to  return  to  England  in  the  hope  of  providing 
entertainment  for  her  younger  child — a  boy  of  four- 
teen, whose  unqualified  rebellion  against  the  customs 
and  tongues  of  the  Latin  races  had  begun  to  make 
her  life  burdensome.  Master  William  Woodbury — 
so  named  for  an  important  maternal  grandfather,  still 
living — was  known  to  his  intimates  as  Toodles.  A 
sturdy,  manly  boy,  he  had  been  taken  from  his  school 


6  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

and  occupations  in  New  York,  and  carried  from  point 
to  point  in  the  Riviera  and  southern  Italy,  on  the 
theory  that  it  would  benefit  his  throat.  A  Swiss 
tutor  who  for  a  time  had  looked  after  Toodles's  edu- 
cation resigned  his  post,  and  was  gathered,  discour- 
aged, to  his  fatherland.  Masters  engaged  at  Nice  and 
Rome  had  also  melted  into  space.  "  Toodles  is  some- 
how not  in  sympathy  with  his  teachers,  over  here," 
it  was  his  mother's  plaintive  custom  to  assert.  In 
plain  truth,  Toodles's  American  soul  revolted  against 
the  divers  nationalities  with  which  his  wandering  lot 
was  cast.  He  wanted  to  be  back  in  New  York  with 
"the  fellows,"  to  hear  nothing  spoken  but  his  own 
vernacular,  and  to  share  in  the  athletic  contests  of  the 
schools.  In  his  eyes  the  system  of  life  carried  on 
through  the  medium  of  what  he  called  "  foreign  jab- 
ber" was  unreal,  theatrical,  and  open  to  adverse  crit- 
icism in  minutest  detail.  Of  much  scenery  he  was 
aweary,  against  the  small  parceling  of  food  at  for- 
eign tables  d'hote  he  protested,  and  to  visiting  more 
churches  and  cathedrals  he  had  taken  almost  violent 
exception. 

It  was  in  the  nature  of  a  compromise  with  Toodles, 
therefore,  that  Mrs.  Standish  regarded  her  present 
English  venture,  and,  so  far,  her  experience  of  sight- 
seeing with  her  son  from  the  Hotel  Metropole  had 
not  proved  a  success.  Toodles  had  ceased  to  smile, 
and  his  distracted  mother  was  about  returning  to  New 
York,  when  she  recalled  a  saying  of  her  late  husband : 
"  In  good  London  lodgings  where  they  know  how  to 
cook  whitebait,  may  be  found  as  fair  a  substitute  for 


AN  EERANT  WOOING  7 

the  comfort  of  home  as  a  man  who  has  been  dragged 
up  by  the  roots  can  ask." 

The  quest  for  lodgings  had  lasted  several  days,  the 
pilgrims  coming  away  disconsolate  from  many  houses 
where  the  exterior,  fresh  with  paint,  white  curtains, 
brass  bells  and  knockers,  geraniums  and  myosotis  in 
window-boxes,  was  belied  by  gloom  and  stuffiness 
within. 

How  often  had  they  followed  the  waiter  or  land- 
lady up  dark  stairways,  past  the  pots  of  palms  on  the 
landing  that  could  not  hide  the  smoke-blackened 
leads  and  backs  of  houses  beyond !  How  often  had 
they  stumbled  into  dull  sitting-rooms  from  which 
newly  washed  chintz  failed  to  banish  the  smell  of  by- 
gone dinners,  and  stood  listening  to  the  lists  of  Lords 
Adolphus  and  Ladies  Gwendolyn  whose  former  oc- 
cupancy might  have  made  illustrious,  but  could  not 
deodorize,  the  quarters !  How  many  bedrooms  had 
they  looked  into,  where  the  brass  bedstead,  under 
which  the  bath-tub  lurked,  and  a  dressing-table  shut- 
ting out  half  the  light  of  a  window  into  which  rained 
smuts  from  adjoining  chimneys,  offered  the  only 
promise  of  comfort !  Let  us  not  blame  our  wander- 
ers if  sometimes  their  thoughts  went  back  to  the 
roomy,  cheerful  house,  light  in  every  part,  temptingly 
clean  and  cozy,  they  had  wilfully  abandoned  in 
Thirty-third  street,  West. 

When  at  length  they  had  decided  to  take  posses- 
sion of  Mrs.  Cryder's  first  floor  and  two  upper  bed- 
rooms, in  Half  Moon  street,  Mrs.  Standish  made  the 
gratifying  discovery  that  she  was  in  the  stronghold 


8  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

of  Lady  Jenkins,  to  which  she  had  been  warned  she 
could  not  obtain  entrance  without  the  indorsement  of 
Lady  Watson-Jones. 

The  day  after  their  removal  thither  had  dawned 
through  the  turbid  atmosphere  in  which  Polly  de- 
clared their  breakfast  by  candlelight  reminded  her  of 
the  burial  of  Sir  John  Moore : 

The  sods  with  our  bayonets  turning ; 
By  the  struggling  moonbeams'  misty  light, 
And  the  lanterns  dimly  burning. 

After  the  man-servant  had  disappeared  with  the  tea- 
pot and  muffineer,  the  ladies  tried  to  find  diversion  in 
scattering  about  the  room  the  bits  of  embroidery, 
books,  curios,  silverware,  and  Alinari  photographs 
indispensable  to  feminine  installation  of  the  tempo- 
rary sort. 

"  It  is  no  use,"  exclaimed  Paulina ;  "  it  is  darkness 
visible.  When  I  can't  tell  Botticelli's  'Madonna'  from 
the  '  Vision  of  Ezekiel/  it 's  about  time  to  give  up  the 
struggle,  and  ring  for  lamps." 

"Italy  was  bad  enough,  but  London  is  just  rot- 
ten," came  in  a  muffled  voice  from  the  vicinity  of  the 
fender. 

"  Woodbury,  my  love,"  observed  Mrs.  Standish,  ad- 
dressing a  dim  image  of  her  offspring  in  the  act  of 
poking  the  fire.  "  I  can't  have  you  using  such  expres- 
sions." 

"  Hamlet  made  that  remark  about  the  state  of  Den- 
mark, mother,"  said  Paulina ;  "  and  he  's  been  a  good 
deal  quoted." 

"Yes;  but  Shakspere,  you  know,  is  so — Woodbury, 


AN  EREANT  WOOING  9 

is  there  nothing  you  can  think  of  that  it  would  amuse 
you  to  do  this  morning  ?  n 

"  Not  a  thing,"  was  the  uncompromising  answer. 

"I  think  the  fog  is  lightening  a  little  —  the  man 
said  it  would  not  last  —  you  could  go  in  a  hansom  to 
Madame  Tussaud's;  the  Tower  is  rather  far.  You 
would  n't  care  for  Westminster  Abbey,  Woodbury  ? " 
This,  faintly,  prayerfully. 

"  If  I  can  have  a  hansom  to  myself,  without  you  or 
Paulina  wanting  to  shop,"  replied  Master  Standish, 
ignoring  the  other  propositions,  "there  is  a  fellow 
at  the  Grand  Hotel  I  know,  that 's  got  a  cold,  and 
can't  go  out.  He  7s  a  chump  we  kicked  off  our  foot- 
ball team  last  year;  but  he  's  better  than  nobody — 
over  here." 

"Don't  go  without  your  overcoat,  Toodles,"  cried 
his  mother,  fruitlessly,  as,  with  a  renewed  animation, 
the  victim  of  travel  sprang  to  his  feet,  seized  his  hat, 
upset  a  china  shepherdess  and  a  vase  of  spills,  fell 
over  the  tray-holder,  and  dashed  down  to  the  front 
door,  where,  possessing  himself  of  the  butler's  whis- 
tle, he  made  a  shrill  appeal  to  the  outer  world  for 
the  species  of  vehicle  he  desired. 

"  It  is  decidedly  lighter.  What  a  great  responsibil- 
ity a  boy  is,  Paulina!  I  wish,  my  dear,  I  had  the 
courage  to  send  Woodbury,  as  I  should  like  to  do,  to 
a  school  here.  There  's  one  at  Cranmorton  where 
Mrs.  Stanley  Weston  has  her  boy,  and  she  's  charmed 
with  it — charmed.  The  boys  play  cricket  with  the 
under-masters  so  nicely;  and,  when  their  mothers  go 
there  for  a  visit,  they  come  in  to  the  head-master's 
drawing-room  for  such  pretty  little  teas.  But,  if  I 


10  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

mention  that  to  Too — Woodbury,  he  simply  won't 
hear  of  it." 

"I  am  afraid  you  '11  have  to  own  yourself  con- 
quered, dear,  and  take  Toodles  home,  and  get  him 
prepared  for  college  like  all  the  rest  of  the  fellows 
who  are  going  to  grow  up  with  him  to  be  average 
American  citizens." 

"Paulina,  is  n't  there  something  a  little  —  exag- 
gerated in  your  way  of  talking  ?  It  is  n't  as  if  Wood- 
bury  were  to  be  dependent  on  his  own  exertions, 
exactly.  Although  your  dear  grandpapa  has  peculiar 
notions  about  not  giving  young  people  too  much 
money  to  start  life  on,  Toodles  will  one  day  have  his 
portion  —  and  he  will  be  very  well  off.  Not,  of 
course,  as  much  so  as  you,  when  you  and  Roger, — 
if  you  and  Roger — "  The  lady  paused. 

"Mother,"  interrupted  Miss  Standish,  with  imme- 
diate darkening  of  a  very  pretty  countenance,  "re- 
member our  bargain.  I  will  not  have  Roger  thrown 
into  my  face." 

"  But,  Polly,  he  ought  to  be  coming  soon." 

Miss  Standish  straightened  her  straight  back,  in- 
flated her  nostrils,  and  looked  mutinous. 

"Roger,  according  to  his  own  showing,  ought,  at 
this  season,  to  stay  upon  his  ranch,  and  not  come 
prowling  across  the  Atlantic,  to  be  an  eternal  burden 
upon  other  people's  minds." 

"Paulina,  I  have  been  meaning  to  speak  of  this 
quite  seriously.  I  am  alarmed  at  your  growing  in- 
difference. Not  only  is  Roger  such  an  excellent 
young  man, —  my  own  brother's  son;  though  as  a 
general  thing  I  don't  approve  of  cousins  marrying, — 
but  your  grandpapa  has  set  his  heart  upon  the  Wood- 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  11 

bury  property  being  kept  together  by  you  two.  I 
really  could  n't  answer  for  the  consequences  to  papa 
if  he  were  to  be  disappointed  in  the  matter ;  though 
it  is  unfortunate  his  having  that  hasty  way  of  an- 
nouncing his  ideas  and  not  letting  anybody  answer 
back.  And  poor  Roger.  You  ought  to  consider  the 
strain  of  uncertainty  upon  his  mind." 

"Roger!  He  imposes  on  you,  mother,"  the  girl 
said,  laughing.  "  Roger  and  I  understand  each  other 
perfectly.  I  should  n't  be  a  bit  surprised  if  pink-eye 
were  to  break  out  among  his  cattle,  or  a  railway  were 
to  run  over  his  land,  or  anything,  to  keep  him  in 
"Wyoming  this  spring." 

"  This  kind  of  jesting  can't  go  on  forever,  my  dear." 

"  Oh,  mother,  let  us  drift,  or  let  grandpapa  give  all 
of  it,  and  welcome,  to  Toodles ! " 

"Toodles  has  n't  the  name,  as  Roger  has.  The 
great  "Woodbury  estate,  as  the  newspapers  call  it, 
must  go  in  the  direct  male  line." 

"  Oh,  dear !  how  sick  I  am  of  the  great  "Woodbury 
estate !  And  I  wonder  where  grandpapa,  who  is  fero- 
cious about  adopting  anything  from  England,  should 
have  got  such  an  idea  of  handing  down  property 
undivided.  It  does  n't  seem  fair  to  you,  mummy,  or 
to  Aunt  Sophy  and  her  girls." 

"  Sophy  and  I  were  brought  up  to  understand  that 
what  we  might  get  when  we  should  be  married  was 
to  be  the  chief  thing  we  were  to  expect.  And,  equally 
so,  my  brother  always  looked  to  inherit  the  bulk  of 
the  property.  After  poor  William  died,  your  grand- 
papa called  me  into  his  library,  and  informed  me  he 
had  been  making  an  entirely  new  will." 

"  Oh !  Oh !    What  possessed  grandpapa  f  " 


12  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"He  said  he  had  this  new  idea  of  Roger  marry- 
ing one  of  his  cousins,  and  inheriting  on  that  con- 
dition. You  were  your  grandpapa's  first  choice,  and 
after  you,  Fanny  Low." 

"  Don't  remind  me  of  it.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been 
put  in  a  barrow,  and  rolled  into  the  market-place, 
my  name  and  virtues  hawked  in  a  loud  voice  over 
my  head." 

"  Roger,  when  consulted  by  your  grandpapa,  imme- 
diately said  he  did  n't  want  Fanny  Low  on  any  terms, 
and  did  want  you.  When  you  were  children,  Roger 
called  you  his  little  wife.  Your  grandpapa  was  ex- 
tremely pleased  at  this ;  so  much  so  that  he  did  not 
object  to  our  engaging  our  passage  to  spend  the 
whole  of  this  last  winter  abroad." 

"  If  he  had,  I  should  have  gone  out  as  a  governess 
in  New  York." 

"  I  will  not  revert  to  your  behavior  at  this  time.  I 
must  say,  Paulina,  you  were  exceedingly  trying  to 
everybody  near.  When  you  at  last  consented  not  to 
interpose  any  objection  to  the  scheme,  provided  you 
were  left  entirely  free  for  two  years,  matters  quieted 
down  a  little,  and  your  grandpapa  gave  me  some 
peace." 

"Poor  mother!  It  was  hard  lines  for  you,  to  be 
everybody's  buffer.  But  please  do  me  the  favor  to 
remember  that  my  first  year  is  n't  up  until  Septem- 
ber. And  Roger  agreed  that  if  he  came  abroad  to 
join  us  in  the  spring,  there  should  be  absolutely  no 
allusion  to  the  blight  that  has  fallen  on  our  two  lives." 

"  I  never  know  whether  you  are  in  jest  or  earnest, 
my  dear." 


PICCADILLY. 


AN  EREANT  WOOING  13 

"Nor  do  I,  quite,  dearest.  But  here  comes  the 
landlady  for  orders;  and  I  do  believe,  since  we  've 
been  talking,  the  fog  has  taken  itself  off." 

While  Mrs.  Standish  lent  ear  to  the  usual  proposi- 
tion for  a  "  clear  soup,  bit  o'  fish,  sweetbread  rissoles, 
baked  shoulder  o'  lamb,  with  peas  and  potatoes,  and 
a  tart  to  follow,"  Paulina  ran  to  the  window  and 
opened  it,  leaning  out  with  American  disregard  of 
Mayfair  convenances. 

Now  that  the  yellow  curtain  was  withdrawn  from 
nature's  face,  what  smiles  radiated  from  its  broad 
expanse!  At  the  first  glimmer  of  watery  sunlight, 
the  suspended  animation  of  the  staid  old  street  re- 
turned. Hansoms  and  four-wheelers,  tradesmen's 
carts,  barrows  of  flowers,  and  a  Punch-and-Judy 
show  on  wheels,  made  up  the  sum  of  vehicles  at  that 
early  hour  in  the  lie-abed  quarter  of  London  human- 
ity. Pedestrians,  gentlemen  mostly,  attired  with  the 
scrupulous  nicety  of  their  class,  each  carrying  his 
umbrella  ferrule  uppermost,  strode  by,  Piccadilly- 
ward.  The  facades  of  the  quaintly  dignified  houses, 
and  the  clean  paving-stones  of  the  narrow  street, 
exhaled  respectability  with  moisture.  A  tatterde- 
malion boy,  catching  sight  of  the  girl  at  the  win- 
dow, thrust  upward  the  tossing  plumes  of  a  potted 
white  lilac,  crying  out  in  a  voice  pathetically  sweet, 
"Oh,  please  do,  lydy!  Buy  this  'ere  'an'some  lay- 
lock;  only  two  en  six!" 

"  Lily  o'  the  valley,  pansies,  lydy,  penny  er  bunch," 
chimed  in  another  with  the  first  vender's  appeal.  In 
a  trice  the  street  seemed  to  upheave  and  break  into 
blossoms,  in  basket,  pot,  and  pottle. 


14  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"  Oh,  why  can't  I  buy  all ! "  said  well-pleased  Pau- 
lina to  herself,  as  she  beckoned  the  white  lilac  to 
the  door  below,  and  singled  out  a  tray  of  wet  violets 
and  daffodils  to  succeed  it.  "What  is  that  lovely 
verse  about  one's  spirit  dancing  with  the  daffodils  ? 
No,  little  boy;  go  away,  and  don't  tease.  I  really 
believe  I  'm  beginning  to  cheer  up." 

These  flowery  transactions,  a  whiff  of  fresh  air,  and 
the  droll  persistence  of  Mr.  Punch's  impresario  in 
preparing  to  set  up  his  theater  for  her  sole  benefit, 
brought  back  to  Polly's  face  its  customary  look  of 
healthy  good  humor ;  and,  when  fairly  driven  inside 
by  a  gathering  crowd  of  Punch's  satellites,  she  was 
prepared  to  admit  that  the  situation  of  Mrs.  Cryder's 
lodgers  had  its  mitigating  points. 

"This  house — all  these  houses — are  so  old-timey 
and  demure,  mother.  Everything  about  them  is  so 
low-toned,  neutral-tinted,  restful.  Nothing  happens, 
nobody  invades  us,  no  sound  comes  from  the  other 
people  in  the  house.  We  might  as  well  be  in  a  little 
planet  of  our  own.  I  feel  like  one  of  Miss  Austen's 
or  Miss  Edgeworth's  young  persons  come  up  to  town 
for  the  season,  and  wondering  whether  the  captain 
will  write  first,  or  call." 

"  Mr.  Roger  Woodbury,"  observed  the  butler  in  an 
impartial  manner,  throwing  open  the  door,  and  effac- 
ing himself  behind  a  very  tall  young  man. 


n 


JOGER!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Standish, 
putting  down  her  "  Morning  Post," 
which  she  had  been  holding  open 
in  a  half-hearted  way,  trying  to 
think  she  enjoyed  it. 

"  Roger !  "  cried  Paulina,  letting 
fall  the  lapful  of  moist  violets  she  was  arranging  in 
sundry  china  cups,  as  she  sprang  to  her  feet.  "Where 
on  earth  did  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  The  city,  just  now,  Proserpina,  where  those  stupid 
people  at  the  hotel  sent  me  to  find  your  address  at 
your  banker's.  The  fog  is  responsible  for  my  delay 
in  getting  here." 

"  We  had  no  idea  you  were  even  on  the  ocean,  yet," 
began  Mrs.  Standish,  looking  rather  timidly  from  his 
brown  and  manly  face  to  Polly's  slightly  clouded  one. 
"  It  is  such  a  delightful  surprise  to  us." 

"  Hum ! "  said  Roger,  after  a  scrutiny,  on  his  own 
account,  of  Paulina's  countenance.  "  You  were  ask- 
ing about  my  voyage,  Aunt  Rose.  Why,  we  steamed 
along  most  of  the  time  in  pouring  rain,  under  a  gray 
sky,  over  a  gray  sea,  through  warmish  weather  that 
made  one  think  of  things  a-blowin'  and  a-growin'  on 
land.  Never  saw  the  sun  once;  and  got  into  Liv- 

15 


16  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

erpool  yesterday,  in  an  atmosphere  that  looked  like 
pea-soup  and  smelt  of  kerosene.  Add  to  that,  London 
in  a  fog,  and  you  may  suppose  I  'm  glad  to  see  sun- 
shine and  violets — and  Polly — all  at  once,  again." 

"When  you  come  to  making  proper  speeches — " 
said  Paulina,  curling  her  lip. 

"Paulina — I  beg — I  insist,"  began  Mrs.  Standish, 
distressed ;  but  Roger  only  laughed. 

"  Now  I  know  I  've  got  my  tart  cousin  back,  un- 
changed," he  said. 

"Your  coming  will  be  the  greatest  thing  in  the 
world  for  Woodbury,"  averred  that  young  gentle- 
man's mama. 

"  Poor  old  Toodles !  I  can  fancy  him  in  these  little 
china-shops,"  said  Koger,  looking  about  the  room. 
"  You  ought  to  have  taken  my  offer,  Aunt  Rose,  and 
left  him  with  me  on  the  ranch.  How  Toodles  would 
have  rejoiced  in  the  immediate  cause  of  my  journey 
east ! " 

"What  was  it?"  asked  Paulina,  who  had  been  a 
trifle  suspicious  of  lurking  sentiment. 

"  The  fact — and  the  way — that  I  lost  my  cook." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Polly,  relieved. 

"  He  was  a  beautiful,  soft- voiced,  soft-handed  native 
I  got  about  six  weeks  ago,  and  life  under  his  kitchen 
management  had  begun  to  be  a  blissful  dream  — 
when,  one  day,  having  been  just  paid  off,  he  quietly 
disappeared.  The  same  day  the  little  town  of  Para- 
chute, about  twenty  miles  from  me,  was  thrown  into 
a  fever  of  excitement  by  the  proceedings  of  a  couple 
of  strangers  on  horseback,  who  rode  up  to  the  bank, 
tied  their  steeds  to  the  hitching-post,  went  inside,  cov- 


AN  EKE  ANT   WOOING  17 

ered  the  paying  teller  with  their  pistols,  and  de- 
manded twenty  thousand  dollars  on  the  spot." 

"  Which  they  got  ? "  asked  Paulina. 

"  Which  they  got,  and  rode  out  of  the  town  at  a 
dead  run  before  the  inhabitants  had  time  to  do  more 
than  spring  to  arms  and  set  out  in  a  vain  pursuit. 
This  story  did  not  reach  me  till  the  day  following, 
when  I  had,  simultaneously,  the  satisfaction  of  hear- 
ing from  one  of  my  '  boys '  that  he  had  been  roused 
up  in  the  night  to  give  food  and  drink  and  a  fresh 
horse — my  horse,  and  all  this  at  the  muzzle  of  a  pistol, 
understand — to  our  late  chef,  who  had  then  vanished 
— we  suppose  in  the  direction  of  New  Mexico,  but  he 
has  never  been,  heard  from  since." 

"  And  you  have  been  living  under  the  same  roof 
with  that  desperate  character !  Oh,  Roger !  I  tremble 
to  think  of  what  you  are  erposed  to  in  that  rough 
Western  life,"  said  Aunt  Rose,  in  her  placid  voice. 

"  Peace  to  his  memory !  He  made  such  a  jam  ome- 
let as  I  never  ate  before.  When  he  left  us,  to  enjoy 
a  green  and  virtuous  old  age  as  a  bloated  millionaire, 
my  partner  and  I  did  the  cooking,  turn  about,  for  a 
while.  This  culminated  in  a  plum-pudding  made  by 
Lansing,  which,  after  various  attacks,  we  voted  to 
bury  in  the  yard;  and  there  Lansing's  collie  dug  it 
up  next  day,  and  ate  it,  dying  in  convulsions  directly 
after." 

"This  decided  you  to  give  up  republican  house- 
keeping, and  try  the  effete  monarchies  for  a  while  ? " 
said  Polly. 

"Exactly."  And  seeing  by  the  friendly  gleam  in 
his  lady's  eye  that  he  was  restored  to  favor,  Mr. 


18  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

Woodbury  drew  his  chair  by  hers,  and,  under  cover 
of  Mrs.  Standish's  discreet  approbation,  the  two  went 
into  a  long  and  all-cousinly  talk  over  what  had  oc- 
curred to  them  since  their  parting  on  the  pier  at  New 
York  eight  months  before. 

"  But  you  have  n't  told  me,  Roger,"  interposed  his 
aunt,  "whether  papa  was  well  —  how  he  looked — 
how  he  seemed — whether  he  needs  us  at  home." 

"  My  grandfather  was  in  his  usual  vigorous  health 
a  week  ago  yesterday,  when  I  bade  him  good-by.  I 
stopped  overnight  at  his  house,  and  had  a  long  talk 
with  him  over — I  was  going  to  say  the  wine,  but 
will  substitute,  for  him,  the  last  new  table-water, 
which  he  now  declares  is  the  only  infallible  remedy 
for  that  complaint  of  his  which  nobody  has  yet  been 
able  to  find  out.  In  the  morning,  on  my  way  to  the 
steamer,  I  knocked  at  his  door,  and  was  told  to  come 
in.  It  was  a  raw  spring  day — the  window  open;  a 
searching  breeze  played  through  the  room,  and  the 
old  gentleman  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  I  heard  a 
tremendous  douche  of  water  in  the  old  shower-bath 
with  a  curtain  that  stands  in  one  corner  of  the  desert 
he  calls  his  bedroom.  '  Good-by.  My  love  to  Rose 
and  the  children.  Tell  'em  when  they  get  tired  over 
there,  I  '11  expect  to  see  'em  home,'  he  roared  out 
from  under  this.  My  teeth  chattered  sympathetically 
as  I  said  good-by  and  took  my  leave." 

"Papa  is  certainly  wonderful,"  cooed  Mrs.  Stan- 
dish,  her  talk  then  ramifying  into  a  catechism  about 
relatives  left  behind,  until  Roger  was  fairly  put 
through  his  paces  in  family  affairs. 


AN  EEEANT  WOOING  19 

"And — you  did  n't  tell  us — did  you  cross  with 
anybody  in  particular,  Roger?"  asked  the  lady  in 
summing  up. 

"  What  mama  means,"  said  Paulina,  "  is  the  people 
of  her  own  acquaintance.  She  's  like  the  woman  who 
asked  her  husband,  at  breakfast,  if  he  found  any '  nice 
deaths'  in  his  newspaper,  please  to  read  them  aloud 
to  her." 

"  We  had  the  usual  thing  at  this  season  of  the  year 
in  those  big  liners,"  answered  the  young  man  —  "a 
lot  of  what  you  call  your  smart  set." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  boy !  as  if  you  could  renounce  your 
birthright ! "  interrupted  Mrs.  Standish,  comfortably. 

"  Considering  I  pulled  up  stakes  in  New  York,  and 
went  to  Wyoming  to  get  rid  of  their  rubbish  of  pre- 
tense !  I  don't  mean  your  kind,  my  kind,  if  you  will, 
but  the  strainers  and  strugglers  who  have  made  us 
so  ridiculous.  On  this  trip  there  were  the  H-ums  and 
the  H-aws,  eager  for  the  telegrams  and  notes  invit- 
ing them  to  dinners  and  house-parties,  which,  they 
averred,  were  awaiting  them  at  Queenstown." 

"For  shame,  my  dear!  You  are  really  too  sarcas- 
tic at  their  expense.  It  is  not  fair." 

"  I  don't  say  those  families  are  not  the  darlings  of 
English  aristocracy,  auntie." 

"But  remember,  mummy  dear,"  put  in  Paulina, 
with  shining  eyes  of  fun,  "how  Lady  Watson-Jones 
spoke  about  your  dear  friends  who  are  of  our  fine 
fleur  in  the  American  ' Siege  of  London/  as  'those 
pushing  Yankees  that  keep  everybody  wondering 
what  they  will  do  next.' " 


20  AN  EBRANT  WOOING 

"  Paulina,  when  you  insist  upon  bringing  up  dis- 
agreeables—" said  her  mother,  compressing  her  lips 
and  looking  martyrized. 

"  Mother,  why  should  you  mind  !  I  don't,  one  fig, 
so  long  as  they  and  we  pay  our  way  honestly,  and 
know  that  we  don't  push.  Why  should  n't  we,  for 
instance,  like  numbers  of  our  countrymen  who  have 
a  straight  descent  from  English  emigrants  of  the 
best  stock  dating  more  than  two  centuries  back,  have 
the  right  to  come  here  and  enjoy  the  land  our  fathers 
left,  without  sneers  from  our  kinspeople  who  have 
remained  ?  " 

"  Family  feuds  are  always  the  hottest,"  said  Roger. 
"  But  here  am  I  keeping  back  an  important  item  of 
fashionable  news.  One  of  my  fellow-passengers  was 
that  star  of  New  York  society,  the  beautiful  Miss 
Amaranth  Clyde." 

"  Those  people ! "  began  Mrs.  Standish,  inflating  her 
fine  nostrils  promptly. 

"  Now,  mother,  I  know  what  you  are  going  to  say. 
You  say  it  regularly  every  time  Amaranth  is  brought 
up  for  discussion.  Granted  the  Clydes  are  nobodies, 
what  matters  it?  They  have  now  won — they  're  in; 
and  Amaranth  was  their  '  open-sesame.' " 

"  But  I  have  had  it  from  undoubted  authority  that 
the  extraordinary  woman,  her  mother,  once  walked 
around  in  a  Western  shop  trying  on  cloaks  for  cus- 
tomers to  see." 

"That  's  a  vocation  I  reserve  for  myself  in  case 
you  and  I  and  Toodles  and  grandpapa  get  caught 
in  a  Wall-street  panic  some  time,  and  lose  all  our 
money.  You  know  everybody's  clothes  seem  to  fit 


AN  EEEANT  WOOING  21 

me,  and  the  dressmakers  always  compliment  my 
back.  Mrs.  Clyde  must  have  been  a  beauty.  You 
can  see  it  in  her  likeness  to  Amaranth,  can't  you, 
Roger?" 

"I  suppose  so.  They  are  like  two  sketches  from 
the  same  model  by  draftsmen  of  unequal  merit.  I 
should  think  there  is  certainly  enough  resemblance 
to  depress  intending  sons-in-law." 

"  Roger,  don't  ignore  the  fact  that  last  summer  at 
Newport,  looking  on  you  as  the  heir  of  all  the  Wood- 
burys,  Mrs.  Clyde  made  the  most  barefaced  exhibi- 
tion of  her  willingness  to  call  you  hers." 

"  Really,  Paulina—" 

"No  use  being  shocked,  mother;  it  was  town-talk, 
for  all  Roger  looks  so  innocent.  I  'd  venture  to 
assert  that,  if  there  was  nobody  more  desirable  on 
board,  Mrs.  C.  made  Amaranth  keep  her  hand  in  by 
allowing  her  to  walk  most  of  the  way  over  with 
Roger.  There!  he  is  blushing;  he  is  found  out. 
But,  oh,  my  dear  Roger,  unless  the  coming  campaign 
fails  to  bring  down  their  long-expected  duke,  or  earl, 
or  baron,  what  hope  have  you  H  " 

"  She  's  a  stunningly  handsome  girl,  and  has  a  way 
with  her,  when  she  likes,  no  fellow  can  resist,"  per- 
sisted Roger,  in  spite  of  his  aunt's  perturbation.  Poor 
Mrs.  Standish  could  not  resign  herself  to  the  touch- 
and-go  levity  of  this  fin  de  sibcle  generation  upon 
sacred  themes.  "  She  had  a  jolly  little  red  cloak  with 
a  hood,  like  those  Irish  boatwomen ;  and  of  an  evening 
she  would  lean  over  the  rail  with  you,  and  tell  your 
fortune  by  your  palm." 

"  I  know,"  cried  Paulina,  joyously ;  "  several  men 

2* 


22  AN  EERANT  WOOING 

have  told  me  about  her  palmistry — and  I  know  the 
red  cloak  with  the  hood.  When  it 's  no  longer  abso- 
lutely fresh,  she  gets  Redfern  to  make  her  another  just 
like  it.  Now,  mother,  I  see  in  your  face  that  you  are 
dying  to  say,  '  Of  course  those  people  know  all  about 
cloaks!'  but  you  won't,  because  you  are  too  Chris- 
tian. And,  Roger,  tell  me  the  plain  truth.  When  you 
drew  near  England,  was  Amaranth  quite — quite  the 
same  f " 

"She  was  a  little  distracted  by  her  Queenstown 
mail.  And  she  opened,  here  and  there,  such  dazzling 
vistas  of  important  households  that  were  in  conten- 
tion for  her,  I  felt  rather  depressed  and  roughly  re- 
publican. But,  like  all  the  truly  great,  she  was 
gracious  in  her  time  of  triumph.  And  she  even  con- 
descended to  hope  I  am  invited  to  a 'very  little' 
house-party  to  be  given  by  our  compatriot,  Lady 
Edmund  Blount,  at  Whitsuntide." 

"  Lucy  Blount's  ?  Why,  we  're  asked  there,  and  of 
course  you  will  be,  Roger.  Lucy's  devoted  to  you. 
She  says  she  never  can  forget  that  canoeing  you  used 
to  give  her  at  Bar  Harbor,  and  that  another  waltz 
with  you,  after  those  whirling  English  dervishes, 
would  set  her  up  for  life.  Let  me  see,  where  is  her 
letter?  Mama,  is  it  in  your  blotter?  We  got  it  yes- 
terday. No ;  here  it  is.  Let  me  read  you  what  dear 
old  Lucy  says.  You  '11  see  she  's  not  changed  a  bit 
by  having  a  handle  to  her  name. 

"Ted  has  taken  a  three  years' lease  of  poor  Sir  Piers  Gil- 
christ's  place,  Wooton  Magna,  up  here  in  the  East  Country, 
where  the  winds  blow  over  us  straight  from  the  German  Ocean. 
We  are  '  seven  miles  from  a  lemon,'  a  telegraph-station,  railway, 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  23 

or  neighbor.  I  'm  in  love  with  the  old  house,  and,  though  Ted 
had  expected  to  use  it  chiefly  for  men  in  the  shooting-season, 
I've  persuaded  him  to  let  me  freshen  things  up  indoors,  and 
stay  on  here  till  baby  has  brought  out  his  new  tooth,  after 
which  event  we  go  back  to  the  house  in  Pont  street  for  the  rest 
of  the  season.  Ted's  own  place  in  Leicestershire  is  like  a  re- 
formatory for  juvenile  delinquents,  and  even  baby  and  I  can't 
make  it  lively.  Of  course  you  must  come  to  me,  you  and  dear 
Mrs.  Standish,  and  that  adorable  Toodles.  How  good  it  will  be 
to  see  you,  and  to  talk  American  as  much  as  I  please,  and  hear 
all  your  gossip  and  tell  you  mine !  I  'm  to  have  a  few  people  at 
Whitsuntide,  so  do  come  before  that,  and  stay  on — none  of 
your  beggarly  three  days  will  suit  me  ;  ten  at  the  least,  or  two 
weeks,  you  darling  things !  How  I  wish  Roger  could  be  with 
us,  and  my  brother  Billy ;  but  they  're  like  two  buckets  in  a  well 
— only  one  comes  up  at  a  time. 

"Then  follows  what  I  told  you,  and  a  lot  more 
there  's  no  need  to  read,"  interpolated  Miss  Standish, 
growing  roseate  during  the  scanning  of  certain  lines. 
"  But  here  I  will  go  on : 

"You  will  be  interested,  as  I  was,  in  hearing  about  Sir  Piers, 
the  owner  of  this  rather  gone-to-seed  paradise,  which  he  has  not 
lived  in  since  Lady  Gilchrist  left  him  and  their  small  daughter 
(it  was  years  ago,  a  famous  London  scandal,  he  not  a  bit  in 
fault,  she  dying  abroad,  and  almost  forgotten  by  society — I 
hate  to  resurrect  old  gossip).  Sir  Piers,  my  husband  says,  is 
one  of  the  best  fellows  in  the  world,  and,  though  a  young  man 
still,  not  much  over  forty,  and  tremendously  good-looking  (as 
you  '11  see  by  his  portrait  in  the  hall  here),  chooses  to  live  out 
of  England,  traveling  or  painting  in  Spain,  I  think,  and  only 
once  in  a  long  time  turns  up  at  his  clubs  in  town.  Now  and 
then,  they  say,  he  puts  in  an  appearance  at  Wooton  Magna  vil- 
lage, but  has  never  set  foot  across  this  threshold  since  the 
trouble  with  his  wife,  preferring  to  inhabit  rooms  always  ready 
for  him  in  a  little  thatched  dower-house  buried  in  rhododen- 
drons on  the  border  of  a  wood — where  I  '11  take  you  to  listen  to 


24  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

the  nightingales,  and  chat  with  the  old  dame  who  keeps  it  and 
swears  by  her  absent  master. 

"Naturally,  the  estate  is  a  good  deal  down,  and  but  for  the 
income  Sir  Piers  gets  from  the  shooting  (Ted  hires  his,  and  two 
others,  making  five  thousand  acres,  as  good  as  any  hereabout), 
I  don't  know  what  the  poor  dear  man  would  do,  since  he  is  very 
hard  up,  and  has  to  educate  his  girl,  who  lives  with  an  old  great- 
aunt  somewhere,  and  has  never  been  here  since  she  left  her 
home  in  babyhood.  The  villagers  and  all  the  cottage  people 
adore  Sir  Piers,  and  make  me  feel  like  a  base  usurper  when  I 
drive  about  in  my  victoria  and  receive  their  bobs.  But  my  Ted 
is  winning  them,  too.  (That  darling  Ted,  of  course  he  would, 
as  you  will  say  when  you  know  him,  Anglophobe  though  you 
be,  my  Polly ! )  And  this  reminds  me  that  Ted  charges  me  to 
say  he  is  prepared  to  fall  in  love  with  you  at  once,  as  the  most 
charming  of  all  my  American  swans.  Now  that  he  has  got  one 
of  us,  he  can't  be  satisfied  without  cultivating  the  acquaintance 
of  the  rest\  wants  me  to  invite  the  prettiest  American  girls  I 
know,  and  says  my  bunch  of  bridesmaids  was  a  dream  he  can- 
not forget." 

"Lucy  Lansing  was  always  a  chatterbox,"  said 
Mrs.  Standish. 

"But  such  a  jolly  one  —  so  frank,  so  generous!" 
said  Roger. 

"  I  always  thought  it  strange  Lord  Edmund  should 
have  picked  out  the  sister  whose  nose  turned  up/' 
pursued  the  lady,  pensively. 

"Lucy's  nose,  like  herself,  is  tip-tilted,  character- 
istic, quaint,"  cried  Paulina.  "I  'm  glad  we  are  to 
go  to  her  so  soon.  I  shall  write  at  once,  Roger,  and 
tell  her  you  're  here.  Of  course  she  will  want  to 
hear  about  her  brother  Billy's  pudding." 

"  Would  n't  it  be  nice  to  start  earlier,  and  get  in 
a  ^ay  or  two  at  Leamington  ?  It  's  a  little  early 


AN  EEEANT  WOOING  25 

for  town,  and  I  am  almost  sure  the  air  would  benefit 
Woodbury's  throat/'  suggested  Mrs.  Standish. 

"  Then,  while  you  put  in  at  that  amiable,  jog-trot 
spa,"  said  Roger,  "  Polly  and  I  will  take  a  jaunt  over 
to  Warwick  and  Kenilworth  and  Stratford.  There  's 
a  path  to  Shottery,  Paulina,  where,  once  having  put 
your  feet  into  lush  greenery,  you  enter  straightway 
into  the  Shaksperian  spirit,  and  evermore  rejoice  in 
his  singing  phrases  about  nature  out  of  doors,  as  you 
could  not  have  done  before." 

"Too  —  I  mean  Woodbury —  should  certainly  see 
Stratford,  if  we  can  possibly  induce  him  to  consent," 
murmured  Woodbury's  mama. 

"  I  '11  undertake  Toodles,"  said  Roger,  with  a  mas- 
terful certainty  that  compelled  the  mother's  awe;  and, 
the  door  just  then  opening,  the  object  of  her  solici- 
tude effected  a  bursting  entrance,  to  spring  upon  his 
new-found  male  supporter  with  the  abandonment  of 
a  happy  dog. 

"  You  'd  better  look  out  —  there  's  somebody  com- 
ing up  the  stairs  after  me,"  remarked  Toodles,  simul- 
taneously. "Got  out  of  a  four-wheeler,  and  was 
jawing  the  cabby  about  his  fare  —  the  old  witch 
from  Rome." 

"  Lady  Watson-Jones,"  announced  the  butler,  and 
at  once  a  dread  silence  fell  upon  the  little  group. 

"How  do  you  do?  You  see,  I  was  quite  right 
about  there  being  no  objections  to  Mrs.  Cryder's  tak- 
ing you,  if  you  mentioned  me,"  observed  her  ladyship. 

"  Oh,  but  it  was  really  by  accident  we  came — quite 
a  coincidence,"  Mrs.  Standish  strove  vainly  to  ex- 
plain; but  her  suavity  was  overborne. 


26  AN  EREANT  WOOING 

"  Odd,  was  n't  it,  my  hearing  you  were  here  through 
Lady  Jenkins,  who  had  it  from  Mrs.  Cryder  when  she 
sent  down  Lady  Jenkins's  new  maid.  Excellent  peo- 
ple, the  Cryders,  so  faithful  to  their  old  patrons,  and 
so  obliging.  It  must  quite  cut  her  up  to  see  any 
one  else  in  Lady  Jenkins's  rooms.  No ;  not  near  the 
fire,  please.  I  am  astonished  to  see  fire  on  a  warm 
day  like  this." 

Then  Lady  Watson- Jones  plumped  into  an  arm- 
chair against  the  wall  opposite  the  fire,  and,  to  shade 
her  face,  held  her  closed  umbrella  rigidly  before  her 
in  an  attitude  suggestive  of  war  upon  the  company. 
During  these  preliminaries  to  sociable  conversation, 
she  had  not  assumed  to  mention  or  introduce  the 
very  tall,  blonde  young  girl,  so  simply  attired  that 
she  might  have  been  either  a  princess  or  a  lady's- 
maid,  who  followed  in  her  wake,  and  for  whom 
Roger  advanced  a  chair,  into  which  she  dropped, 
blushing  a  vivid  red. 

"  My  niece,"  said  Lady  Watson-Jones,  meeting  the 
glance  of  inquiry  from  Mrs.  Standish.  "  Of  course, 
seeing  that  I  had  got  you  into  this  place,  I  had  to 
come  to  be  sure  that  all  was  right.  I  live  a  goodish 
bit  from  here,  in  Bryanstone  Square,  a  part  I  dessay 
you  Americans  don't  know.  But  you  '11  come  to 
luncheon  with  me  some  day,  and  I  '11  show  you  my 
cats.  One  of  them  is  ailing  to-day,  and  I  'm  half 
afraid  he  's  got  the  influenza.  I  had  a  touch  of  it 
myself,  and  kept  abed  two  days  for  safety's  sake; 
but,  thank  God !  I  'm  better,  and  I  hope  Tom  will  be 
soon.  When  I  'm  sure  Tom  is  better,  I  '11  set  a  day 
for  vou  to  lunch." 


AN  ERRANT   WOOING  27 

"  And  does  this  young  lady  help  you  to  take  care 
of  Tom!"  asked  Mrs.  Standish,  vaguely  hoping  to 
elicit  some  allusion  that  might  throw  light  on  the 
unknown  visitor. 

"She?  Oh,  no.  I  never  let  her  touch  them.  She 's 
to  be  presented  at  the  next  drawing-room,  and  we  've 
been  seeing  after  her  frock." 

"  Presented  1    What  fun ! "  cried  Polly  Standish. 

"  Humph !  Not  funny  in  the  least,"  resumed  Lady 
Watson-Jones.  "  And  a  pretty  penny  Aline  asks  for 
a  plain  white  silk  train,  with  mousseline  de  soie  puf- 
fings and  lilies  of  the  valley  bunched  around  the 
edge." 

"Are  n't  you  excited?"  asked  Polly  of  the  nameless 
one,  while  Roger  and  Toodles  conversed  together  in 
the  window-seat. 

"  No,"  ventured  the  maiden  j  "  I  think  not." 

"  So  many  of  my  friends  have  told  me  about  their 
presentations,"  pursued  the  American  girl,  anxious 
to  put  her  guest  in  some  sort  at  her  ease,  "I  feel 
as  if  I  know  the  whole  affair,  and  could  do  it  with 
my  eyes  shut." 

Polly  was  not  prepared  for  the  startled  look  turned 
on  her  at  this. 

"  I  don't  mean  really  with  my  eyes  shut.  I  mean 
that  I  could  go  through  the  ceremony  without  being 
told.  But  I  have  no  great  curiosity  to  try  the  experi- 
ment. It  seems  to  me  pointless  for  a  republican  girl 
to  have  to  bend  and  bow  and  kotow  like  that,  just 
to  kiss  an  old  lady's  hand." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  the  visitor,  her  surprise  now 
evident  alarm. 


28  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"  If  I  've  said  anything  impolite,  you  must  excuse 
me,"  said  Polly,  laughing,  and  hastening  to  discourse 
of  everything,  grave  or  gay,  that  she  could  imagine, 
to  coax  the  stranger  from  her  shell.  Monosyllables 
only,  uttered  in  a  beautiful  and  perfectly  educated 
voice,  rewarded  Polly's  pains ;  and  when  Lady  Wat- 
son-Jones arose  to  go,  and  marshaled  her  charge 
away,  the  door  closed  upon  a  smiling  ring  of  faces. 

"  What  a  piece  of  still-life  that  girl  is ! "  said  Mrs. 
Staiidish. 

"She  has  been  abstracted  from  Madame  Tus- 
saud's,"  said  Paulina. 

"  I  hope,  if  we  go  there  to  lunch,  they  '11  put  the 
cat  next  to  me,"  observed  Toodles. 

"She  looks  intelligent,"  said  Roger,  "and  when 
she  did  speak,  I  never  heard  a  sweeter  voice.  Who 
could  suppose  a  grown  girl  to  be  so  painfully  shy ! " 

"  She  has  an  exquisite  complexion,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Standish,  looking  with  an  involuntary  sigh  at  her 
daughter's  clear  pale  cheeks. 

"But  to  think  we  don't  even  know  what  to  call 
her ! " 

"Anyhow,  here  's  their  card,"  announced  Wood- 
bury,  who  had  been  foraging  in  a  biscuit- jar  upon 
the  side-table. 

"Dear  me!  'Miss  Gilchrist,'"  read  out  Paulina. 
"Where  have  we  heard  that  name?" 


Ill 


AULINA  has  always  declared  that 
the  immediate  cause  of  their  run- 
away from  London  just  after  being 
settled  in  the  Half  Moon  street 
lodgings  was  the  dread  they  all 
shared  of  having  to  take  luncheon 
with  Lady  "Watson-Jones.  Paulina's  mother,  on  hear- 
ing this  sally,  has  invariably  said:  "Nonsense!  It 
was  because  of  the  risk  from  influenza,  and  on  ac- 
count of  Toodles's  throat."  Paulina's  cousin  Roger, 
a  dear  lover  of  pastoral  England,  kept  his  own  coun- 
sel, and  never  let  the  ladies  know  how  subtly  he  had 
schemed  to  hold  them  to  the  point  of  giving  him  a 
week  of  Paulina's  company  in  blossom-time  in  the 
country.  As  to  Paulina's  brother,  Toodles  was  in 
the  robust  juvenility  of  a  young  dog,  to  whom  any 
move  with  anybody,  anywhere,  is  acceptable. 

They  had  a  week  to  spend  before  repairing  to 
Lady  Edmund  Blount's,  to  whose  Whitsuntide  party 
an  urgent  invitation  for  Roger  had  arrived.  A  vaga- 
bond week  in  England — what  more  delightful?  A 
week  without  too  much  luggage,  without  any  respon- 
sibility, without  previous  plan  of  travel.  A  week  of 
loitering  in  daisy-sprinkled  meads,  under  ivied  min- 


30  AN  EKRANT  WOOING 

ster  walls,  upon  rivers  shining  clear — only,  whither, 
whither  should  they  go? 

So  much  time  was  lost  in  discussing  this,  they  bid 
fair  to  go  nowhere  at  all,  and  at  last  settled  down 
to  what  Roger  had  called  u  amiable,  jog-trot "  Leam- 
ington. 

From  the  Manor  Inn  of  that  staid,  many-gardened 
old  spa  there  were  pleasant  excursions  to  be  made  to 
Kenilworth,  Stratford,  Guy's  Cliff,  Warwick  Castle, 
Charlcote,  Stoueleigh  Abbey — excursions  afoot  or 
by  rail,  or  in  a  carriage  rolling  over  the  smoothest 
roads,  in  which  Mrs.  Standish  could  easily  join,  while 
to  Toodles  the  facility  of  hiring  a  bicycle  and  speed- 
ing whither  he  would,  offered  an  outlet  for  his  zeal. 

In  those  early  days  of  May  so  few  trippers  were 
abroad  that  they  had  hotels  and  railway  compart- 
ments practically  to  themselves;  and  the  fine,  dry 
weather  was  a  marvel  to  be  spoken  of  under  the 
breath,  lest  it  should  disappear. 

"  I  did  not  know  the  world  contains  so  many  green 
checkerboards  of  fields,  with  blackthorn  hedges,  and 
shaggy  sheep,  and  weak-kneed  lambs,"  said  Paulina ; 
"  so  many  cottage  doors  with  fruit-trees  trained  above 
them,  and  old  women  knitting,  and  cats  purring  at 
the  old  women's  knees." 

"The  peace  and  rest  and  rich  verdure  of  it  al- 
most pass  American  understanding,"  observed  Roger. 
"  No  wonder  our  country-people  are  accused  of  ap- 
propriating Warwickshire.7' 

They  had  gone  over  to  Stratford  for  the  afternoon, 
and,  Paulina  having  made  the  rounds  of  the  town  in 
a  rather  perfunctory  fashion,  the  young  people  re- 


AN  EREANT  WOOING  31 

turned  from  Shottery  by  the  field  path,  carrying 
nosegays  of  pansies  and  bleeding-heart  presented  by 
a  descendant  of  the  Hathaways,  who  sat  drinking  her 
tea  in  the  corner  of  the  wide-mouthed  chimney 
where  sun  and  moon  had  looked  in  upon  Shak- 
spere's  courtship. 

"Have  you  heard,"  Roger  added,  "what  an  old 
crippled  woman  in  Leamington  said  recently  to  a 
visitor,  about  Shakspere  ?  '  Law !  who  was  he  ? 
On'y  a  plowboy.  An'  he  was  never  thought  nothin' 
of  till  the  Americans  came  over  and  took  him  up.' 
Now,  Polly,  what  did  I  tell  you  !  Is  n't  this  the  per- 
fection of  rural  landscape  ? " 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  said  wilfully;  "it  's  all  pretty, 
placid,  well-fed.  But  my  heart  pants  for  an  open, 
rolling  hill-country  such  as  we  have  in  our  own 
Berkshire,  in  Massachusetts,  with  miles  of  wild,  rock- 
strewn  pasture  on  the  slopes,  and  green  tors,  and 
wild  roses,  and  life-everlasting,  and  sweet-fern  crop- 
ping up  around  the  boulders;  and  the  Housatonic 
winding  like  a  silver  ribbon  in  the  valley;  and  old 
Greylock  and  the  Dome  looking  down  on  the  lower 
mountains ! " 

"  I  did  not  suppose  our  Polly  would  join  the  noble 
army  of  trippers  who  make  comparisons  with  what 
they  have  left  at  home,"  he  said,  smiling.  "  The  ob- 
vious answer  to  which  is,  Why  did  n't  you  stay  where 
you  were  so  well  satisfied  ?  " 

"  Good  one  on  Polly ! "  cried  Toodles,  who  believed 
in  fair  play. 

"Oh,  well,  one  must  see  things,"  the  girl  said. 
"And  you  know,  Roger,  I  never  professed  to  be  a 


32  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

creature  of  sentiment."  Then,  drawing  her  brother's 
arm  through  hers,  she  started  ahead  of  Roger  to  walk 
to  the  train  that  was  to  restore  the  excursionists  to 
Leamington  and  Mrs.  Standish  in  time  for  dinner. 

They  were  sitting  in  the  train,  presently,  waiting 
for  it  to  start,  and  breathing  the  moist  air  surcharged 
with  odors  of  lilac  and  hawthorn,  that  made  of  their 
compartment 

a  box  where  sweets  compacted  lie, 

while  looking  on  at  a  game  of  cricket  among  the  boys 
of  the  King  Edward  school  in  a  field  close  to  the  sta- 
tion. Suddenly,  without  premonition,  a  shower  fell 
from  an  apparently  clear  sky,  breaking  up  the  sport, 
and  sending  the  merry,  manly  fellows  scampering  in 
search  of  jackets,  sweaters,  and  bicycles.  Looking 
back  at  Stratford,  through  the  pearly  mist  of  summer 
rain,  all  that  our  travelers  saw  not  softest  gray,  was 
exquisitely  green. 

"  Roger,  I  suppose  I  am  unreasonable,"  vouchsafed 
Paulina,  as,  in  a  gentler  mood,  she  turned  toward 
him.  "  I  am  trying  to  see  with  your  eyes ;  but  for 
the  life  of  me  I  've  never  been  able  to  enjoy  cut-and- 
dried  privileges." 

"  What  sort  of  privileges,  for  instance  ? "  he  asked 
good-humoredly. 

"  Well,  Kenilworth  and  Stratford — and  what  grand- 
papa wants  us  to  be  to  one  another — now,  don't  be 
angry !  If  I  can't  speak  out  what  I  feel  when  I  feel 
it,  I  become  a  horrible  repressed  object,  like  a  bomb 
of  dynamite." 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  33 

"Then  you  have  had  no  real  pleasure  in  these 
beautiful  days  we  Ve  spent  together?"  he  asked, 
Toodles  buried  in  a  penny  newspaper  opposite  them. 

"  Pleasure  !  Every  day  is  full  of  pleasure.  How 
can  any  one  who  is  only  twenty  years  old,  who  has  n't 
an  ache,  and  who  sleeps  like  a  top,  help  being  happy 
when  a  new  day  comes  around  ? "  And  the  elusive 
look  in  her  eyes  warned  him  not  to  pursue  his  in- 
quiries. 

In  her  room  that  night,  Polly  reproached  herself 
fiercely.  Who  was  there,  after  all,  better  in  her  world 
than  Roger ;  who  more  patient  with  her  whims,  who 
stronger,  truer,  more  good  to  look  at?  Every  day, 
every  hour  they  spent  together  but  confirmed  her  in 
this  opinion.  So  long  as  the  question  of  the  great 
Woodbury  estate  did  not  loom  up  on  her  horizon, 
Roger  was  entirely  to  her  taste.  And  yet  there  was 
that  goading  spirit  within  her,  ever  driving  her  to 
defy,  rebuff,  wound  him.  But  then,  who  that  is  born 
of  woman  can  answer  for  the  vagaries  of  a  young 
girl's  heart  ?  Polly  gave  it  up. 

Full  of  good  resolution  for  the  future,  she  walked 
with  her  cousin  next  day  to  Warwick,  and  went  over 
that  most  satisfying  of  all  English  castles,  in  the 
wake  of  a  stupid  little  party  of  sightseers,  who  hud- 
dled like  sheep,  and  looked  almost  as  intelligent,  while 
listening  to  the  remarks  of  their  smart  soldier-guide. 

"  Roger,"  said  Paulina,  sweetly,  stopping  behind  to 
lean  with  her  cousin  from  the  boudoir- window,  look- 
ing down,  through  the  dusky  boughs  of  cedars  planted 
by  the  Crusaders,  into  the  placid  sheen  of  Avon,  far 


34  AN  ERBANT  WOOING 

below,  "if  I  have  been  a  little  horrid  to  you  lately, 
forgive  me.  I  am  going  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf. 
Don't  ask  for  particulars,  but  await  results." 

"Are  n't  you  feeling  quite  well,  my  daughter?" 
Mrs.  Standish  inquired  that  afternoon,  as  they  were 
driving,  Roger  and  Toodles  facing  them  in  the  landau. 

"  Perfectly  well,  mother.  I  have  only  experienced 
a  change  of  heart,  and  the  first  day  of  such  goodness 
is  depressing,"  she  said,  with  a  glance  at  Roger. 

"  Roger,  what  does  she  mean  ? "  asked  the  mother, 
with  knitted  brows. 

But  then,  Mrs.  Standish  had  been  puzzling  over 
Paulina  from  her  cradle. 

"  I  mean  that  I  now  love  fat  sheep  and  green  mea- 
dows and  things  settled,  as  much  as  Roger  does. 
Though,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  think  Roger  is  incon- 
sistent. He  left  New  York  to  go  and  be  a  cow-boy 
and  with  the  cow-boys  stand ;  but,  when  over  here,  he 
falls  down  and  worships  what  he  calls  the  perfected 
civilization  of  English  society.  He  's  tremendously 
up  in  English  politics;  in  London,  at  the  galleries, 
and  so  on,  he 's  quite  a  greenery-yallery  young  man  ; 
and  in  the  country  he  is  ready  to  weep  at  the  note  of 
a  cuckoo." 

"  I  am  afraid  your  reformation  is  short-lived,"  said 
Roger,  with  the  smile  her  nonsense  always  won  from 
him.  "But  please  let  me  beg  you  to  remember, 
Polly,  that  "Wyoming  is  my  place,  this  is  my  play- 
ground. And,  if  I  do  believe  in  the  '  government  of 
the  people,  by  the  people,  and  for  the  people' — " 

"Eh?"  said  Polly,  with  raised  eyebrows. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  not  going  to  talk  politics  to  you.    If  I  do 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  35 

believe  in  that  with  all  my  heart,  I  say,  may  n't  I  feast 
my  gaze  upon  the  afternoon  of  England's  monarchy  ? 
If  I  delight  in  the  finished  structure  of  England's 
social  life,  the  peace,  security,  exclusiveness  of  her 
homes,  her  settled  views  upon  the  social  questions 
that  are  still  disrupting  us,  and  that  make  such  jack- 
asses of  us  in  foreign  eyes — " 

"  Hear !    Hear ! "  cried  Polly. 

"  All  this  does  n't  blind  me  to  make  me  in  the  least 
disloyal  to  the  real  glory  of  an  exhaustless  land  like 
ours — a  buoyant  atmosphere,  a  vivid,  original,  pic- 
turesque nature,  that  fill  my  moral  lungs  with  fresher 
air  only  to  speak  of  them." 

"  My  dears,"  said  Mrs.  Standish,  turning  to  look  at 
a  carriage  just  then  passing,  "there  is  the  rather 
nice  old  lady  who  is  so  civil  to  us  at  the  hotel.  She 
told  me  last  night  she  has  been  always  interested 
in  America,  since  a  gentleman  she  knew  once  had 
gone  there  and  brought  home  to  his  wife  some  such 
excellent  porous  plasters." 

"  Now  has  our  nation  achieved  its  destiny ! "  cried 
Paulina.  "Look,  Roger,  at  this  wagonette  full  of 
women  that 's  coming  toward  us.  They  are  all  alike, 
big,  blooming,  buxom.  And  the  rosiest  one  of  them 
has  got  on  a  respirator  —  a  thing  like  a  black  stere- 
opticon — over  her  mouth.  Perhaps  she 's  the  young- 
est and  prettiest  sister,  and  that  's  their  way  of 
keeping  her  under  till  the  older  ones  are  married  off." 

11  Let  me  see  the  stereopticon,"  said  Toodles,  twist- 
ing around  in  his  seat.  "  I  say,  Polly,  what  a  jolly 
guy  she  is ! " 

"Listen  to  the  infected  Toodles,"  said  his  sister. 


36  AN  EBEANT  WOOING 

"When  we  played  billiards  last  night  he  called  out, 
'  I  say,  Polly,  what  a  beastly  fluke ! ' r> 

"  I  did  n't,"  contradicted  Toodles,  growing  red. 

"Oh,  yes;  we  are  all  so.  But  so  long  as  Roger 
is  happy,  what  does  anything  matter?  Roger,  tell 
me,  when  there  are  six  grown-up  daughters,  as  in 
that  family, —  here !  see !  they  are  passing  us, —  what 
do  they  do  for  husbands,  in  the  present  lack  of  mar- 
riageable men?" 

"  They  touch  the  button,  and  the  chaperons  do  the 
rest.  All  eligible  Englishmen  tell  you  they  are 
obliged  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  against  the  mothers 
and  chaperons.  Fancy  the  poor  girls  brought  up  to 
feel  they  must  marry  to  relieve  their  families  of  the 
dead  weight  of  them,  and  to  fill  the  purse  of  the 
elder  brother,  so  that  he  may  make  ducks  and  drakes 
at  his  leisure  —  the  way  it  must  drive  them  on  !  No 
wonder  so  many  of  their  fellows  come  after  our  girls, 
who  keep  them  in  refreshing  doubt  till  the  last  minute 
whether  they  '11  say  yes  or  no." 

"  And  no  wonder  the  British  matron  calls  us  sad 
poachers  on  her  preserves,"  answered  Polly,  with  a 
curling  lip.  "  But  I  can  tell  you,  Roger,  the  more  I 
hear  and  see  of  the  way  Englishmen  talk  about  wo- 
men, the  more  it  makes  me  want  to  utter  a  war- 
whoop  of  contempt!  Ah!  There  'd  be  no  sort  of 
doubt  in  my  mind  about  the  answer  I  'd  give  an 
Englishman  who  wanted  to  marry  me." 

"Paulina,  the  people  in  the  carriage  behind  can 
almost  hear  you,"  said  her  mother. 

"Did  n't  I  tell  you  I  want  to  utter  an  Indian 
whoop  9 "  cried  Polly.  "  I  can't  see  how  an  Ameri- 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  37 

can  girl  can  give  up  her  home,  and  habits,  and 
individuality,  to  marry  over  here.  If  you  are  so- 
cially anybody,  you  live  as  a  marked  personage,  ap- 
plauded as  they  clap  a  clown  when  he  makes  a  joke 
in  the  sawdust.  If  you  are  nobody — what  outer 
darkness ! " 

"Lucy  Blount  has  been  most  kindly  received  by 
her  husband's  relatives,"  said  Mrs.  Standish. 

"  That  's  what  we  always  hear  at  home,  and  then 
we  come  to  England,  and  find  out  the  reverse  of  the 
medal.  'She  's  nice-looking,  certainly,  and  not  so 
vulgar  as  the  rest,'  was  what  Helena  Van  Kort's  no- 
ble father-in-law  remarked  about  her,  for  instance." 

"  That  seems  incredible,  when  we  remember  what 
the  Van  Korts  are  in  New  York,"  sighed  Mrs. 
Standish. 

"I  second  Polly's  motion,"  said  Roger.  "I  don't 
think  American  popularity  in  English  society  is  a 
prize  sufficiently  glittering  to  marry  for.  And  the 
international  marriage  does  n't  appeal  to  me,  other- 
wise, in  the  least.  /  would  n't  pluck  a  British  blos- 
som to  wear  in  my  buttonhole,  if  I  could.  There  is 
enough  disparity  of  taste  and  temper  to  be  overcome 
in  a  marriage  between  two  of  a  kind,  without  adding 
to  it  a  lifetime  of  petty  disputes  over  what  each  has 
been  brought  up  to  accept  in  habit  or  environment." 

They  had  decided  to  spend  two  or  three  days  in 
Cambridge,  going  on  to  Lady  Edmund's  on  the 
Tuesday  before  Whitsunday.  In  the  coffee-room  of 
the  Bull  they  found  two  mothers,  one  Scotch,  the 
other  English,  giving  entertainment  to  their  under- 
graduate sons,  and  meekly  receiving  patronage  over 


38  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

the  joint  and  gooseberry-tart — "quite  as  we  do  at 
home/'  said  the  American  mama. 

In  the  clear  evening  light  Eoger  carried  Paulina 
off  for  a  stroll  among  the  buildings,  and,  Mrs.  Standish 
pleading  headache,  Toodles  was  invited  to  accompany 
the  walkers  —  an  invitation  civilly  declined  as  he  sat 
in  the  window  poring  over  a  book  found  among  the 
Dead  Sea  fruit  of  hotel  sitting-room  literature. 

"Bless  him!7'  said  his  mother,  carrying  into  retreat 
her  aching  head.  "I  never  like  to  interfere  with 
Toodles  when  he  voluntarily  takes  up  a  book." 

Long  after  Polly  —  whose  room  joined  his  —  had 
climbed  into  her  high,  quaint  bed,  the  candle  of  the 
studious  Toodles  was  alight.  Awakening  from  her 
first  sleep,  and  hearing  him  move,  Miss  Standish  felt 
herself  in  duty  bound  to  investigate  this  phenome- 
non. There  was  Toodles,  still  dressed,  his  hair 
tousled,  absorbed  in  reading — what?  "Miss  No- 
body of  Nowhere"! 

"You  might  have  stayed  in  America  for  that," 
said  his  sister,  mildly. 

"  Oh,  let  up  on  lectures,  Polly ! "  observed  the 
student.  "  Can't  a  fellow  have  any  fun,  to  make  up 
for  being  lugged  about  England  ?  " 

The  first  rain  of  their  northward  pilgrimage  fell 
on  that  Sunday  morning  in  Cambridge.  Toodles, 
appearing  wan  and  dull  at  breakfast,  committed  the 
indiscretion  of  a  sneeze,  and  by  his  mother  was  at 
once  dosed  with  quinine,  and  sentenced  to  keep  the 
bounds  of  their  sitting-room,  where  she  left  him  with 
a  number  of  interesting  views  of  the  colleges,  and 
the  lessons  for  the  day,  while  with  the  others  she 
repaired  to  service  at  Trinity  College  chapel. 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  39 

Sitting  stone-cold  upon  rush-bottomed  chairs  in 
the  antechapel,  under  the  guardianship  of  Roubillac's 
marble  statue  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  they  saw  the  be- 
lated men  straggle  in  to  service,  to  be  checked  off  by 
an  official  who  kept  tally  as  they  passed  —  the  last- 
comer  putting  on  his  gown  distractedly  in  the  court 
while  he  ran,  resembling  a  huge  bird  just  alighted. 

Discomfort  of  all  kinds  was  happily  forgotten 
when  at  the  afternoon  service  they  had  the  privilege 
of  listening  to  the  angelic  choir  of  King's.  Occupy- 
ing stalls  in  the  center  of  the  church,  their  eyes  at 
once  soared  to  the  majestic  beauty  of  that  peerless 
interior  roof,  where  scallop-shells  of  carved  stones 
meet,  and  are  fixed  at  the  point  of  contact  by  cor- 
bels of  stone  fruit  and  flowers.  The  great  lustrous 
East  window  glowed  with  the  soft  radiance  of  old 
sapphire-blue  glass  that  has  no  peer  in  modern  days, 
with  emerald  and  amber,  and  blots  of  deep  Burgun- 
dian  red,  which,  repeated  in  the  four-and-twenty  side 
windows,  defied  the  gloom  of  the  outer  world. 

When  after  a  while  the  organ  chime  arose,  and  the 
voices  of  the  perfect  choir  rang  out  like  the  lark  at 
heaven's  gate,  Paulina  turned,  trembling  with  de- 
light, to  whisper  in  Roger's  ear,  "This  is  the  best 
of  all." 

So  sitting  and  rejoicing,  Polly  little  knew  of  a  pair 
of  eyes  turned  in  amused,  then  pleased,  then  rever- 
ent, gaze  on  her  rapt  face. 

A  man  near  by,  clearly  at  home  in  the  place,  bent 
over,  and  called  the  attention  of  a  young  woman  be- 
side him  to  the  girl  with  a  score  in  her  lap,  and 
a  face  like  one  of  the  young-eyed  cherubim  of  an 
old  Italian  master.  The  young  woman  so  addressed 


40  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

leaned  forward  with  a  gleam  of  recognition,  but,  as 
Polly  did  not  look  their  way,  drew  back  as  it  were 
within  her  shell,  and  the  opportunity  for  greeting 
never  came. 

"I  have  heard  the  Pope's  choir  in  the  Sistine 
Chapel  recently,"  Polly  said,  as  they  walked  in  a 
downpour  back  to  the  hotel;  "but  this  affected  me 
quite  differently ;  it  seemed  as  if  they  were  carrying 
up  my  own  faith,  my  own  prayers,  to  the  great  white 
throne.  Then  those  amens,  breathed  without  organ 
—  and  all  in  that  glorious  place!  Do  you  know, 
Roger,  poking  about  in  Italy  and  France  in  their 
splendid  churches  and  cathedrals,  I  used  to  yearn 
after  music  to  fill  up  the  vast  echoing  spaces,  and 
there  was  never  any,  or  rarely.  Yes;  this  is  the 
best  of  all." 

"Do  you  remember  "Wordsworth's  lines,  'Within 
King's  Chapel'?"  he  asked,  while  Mrs.  Standish  and 
her  umbrella  and  kilted  petticoats  filled  up  the  nar- 
row pavement  ahead. 

"  You  know  I  don't.  I  never  remember  Hues  and 
things  that  are  appropriate.  But  you  may  say  them 
for  me,  please." 

"  This  much  will  do  for  you,"  he  answered : 

"  That  branching  roof, 

Self-poised  and  scooped  into  ten  thousand  cells, 
"Where  light  and  shade  repose,  where  music  dwells 
Ling'ring  and  wandering  on,  as  loath  to  die, 
Like  thoughts  whose  very  sweetness  yieldeth  proof 
That  they  were  born  for  immortality." 

"Roger,  I  hate  myself  for  thinking  it,  but  how 
much  more  these  undergraduates  have  in  their  lives 


AN  EEEANT  WOOING  41 

than  ours !  How  much  loftier  in  soul  they  must  be, 
when  they  sit  in  such  inspiring  places  of  worship, 
than  our  men,  who  go  to  those  dreary,  bare  chapels 
of  American  universities." 

"Hum,"  said  Roger,  quizzically,  "I  don't  know 
that;  but  I  will  say  most  of  the  fellows  I  Ve  met 
who  have  been  graduated  at  Oxford  or  Cambridge 
bring  away  a  thoroughly  manly  love  for  their  uni- 
versity, and  keep  up  their  college  friendships ;  which 
is  more  than  we  do,  as  a  rule.  Perhaps  it  is  your 
Puritan  ancestry,  Paulina,  that  makes  you  feel  such 
an  affinity  for  Cambridge.  Do  you  know,  the  foun- 
ders of  New  England,  or  many  of  the  best  of  them, 
were  trained  here ;  they  took  from  these  parts  their 
Boston,  Ipswich,  Framingham,  Eastham,  Dedham, 
Lincoln,  Haverhill,  Newbury,  and  a  lot  more." 

"You  dear,  beautiful  King's,  I  am  glad  even  that 
little  piece  of  you  is  mine,"  said  the  girl,  looking 
back  to  wave  the  gray  old  building  a  fantastical 
farewell. 

By  the  following  afternoon  the  sun  had  returned 
all-glorious,  and  they  went  rowing  on  the  little  river 
that  holds  Cambridge  in  the  crook  of  its  arm,  and 
gives  a  suggestion  of  Venice  to  the  rear  of  some  of 
the  colleges.  At  such  an  hour  the  famous  "backs" 
show  their  exceeding  beauty  in  full  light.  The  wide 
sheets  of  living  green,  with  their  great  soaring, 
black-armed  trees  misty  with  foliage,  are  best  to  look 
at  when  swarming  with  the  young  life  of  the  uni- 
versity on  diversion  bent.  Caps  and  gowns  thrown 
aside,  the  men  appear  in  flannels,  sweaters,  straw 
hats  with  their  college  colors  —  all  that  is  bright  and 


42  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

spring-like  in  male  attire.  "With  pipe  and  dog  for 
companions,  some  lounge  on  benches  under  elms  or 
willows ;  some  seek  the  greater  solitude  of  canoes  on 
the  Cam.  Cricket,  tennis,  boating  in  all  forms,  are 
the  visible  amusements  of  the  throng.  But  upon  the 
river  concentrates  the  chief  charm  of  human  interest 
in  the  panorama.  To  row  once  or  twice  its  length 
within  interesting  limits,  to  try  to  escape  the  igno- 
miny of  a  bump  from  some  mischief-making  boat,  to 
shoot  under  the  triple  arches  where  reflected  sun- 
shine glitters  in  a  golden  checkerwork  overhead, 
then  to  pull  in  close  ashore  and  hang  on  by  a  daisy 
springing  from  the  velvet  bank  opposite  Trinity  or 
King's,  and  there  idly  to  watch  the  floating  show 
pass  by,  are  pleasures  safely  to  be  recommended. 

From  Polly's  lot  was  not  withheld  the  treat  of  tea- 
drinkings  in  one  or  two  of  those  luxurious  rooms  be- 
hind the  flower-boxes  looking  into  the  college  courts. 
The  pretty  American  girl,  with  her  gracious  smiles, 
her  charming  gestures,  her  ready  wit,  was  speedily 
the  center  of  attraction  among  the  young  fellows  she 
ordered  hither  and  thither  with  the  frank  audacity  of 
her  species  in  its  native  atmosphere.  Indeed,  when 
Miss  Standish  was  torn  away  from  the  old  town  by 
her  natural  protectors  the  following  day,  there  was  at 
the  station  a  group  of  admiring  youngsters  to  bestow 
on  her  flowers  and  photographs,  and  to  pledge  future 
meetings  in  London  or  New  York,  which  caused 
Polly  to  pronounce  Cambridge  the  most  "  homelike " 
place  in  England. 

And  now  they  were  en  route  through  the  fen-coun- 
try, green  and  monotonous  as  an  American  prairie, 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  43 

with  its  intersecting  ditches,  its  great  haystacks  like 
cheeses  from  which  slices  have  been  cut,  and  cottages 
that  loom  dimly  into  sight  on  the  horizon  line,  as  one 
becomes  aware  of  ships  far  off  at  sea. 

A  little  while — for  in  England,  as  Polly  said,  you 
hardly  get  used  to  one  county  before  you  are  in 
another — and  they  were  running  through  a  region  of 
gorse-clad  uplands,  where  the  hillsides  were  honey- 
combed with  rabbit-burrows,  and  the  rabbits  sat  on 
their  hind  quarters,  gazing  like  village  urchins  at  the 
train.  At  one  spot  a  grove  of  black-visaged  pines 
harbored  an  almost  Southern  warmth,  but  elsewhere 
there  was  a  free,  delicious  air  that  told  of  the  North 
Sea  hard  by. 

"  Now  that  it 's  over,  I  '11  admit  your  week  of  idling 
was  a  success,"  Polly  vouchsafed  to  Roger.  In  the 
last  days  she  had  grown  to  depend  upon  his  ready 
sympathy,  the  fillip  of  his  masculine  comment  upon 
passing  events,  and  to  look  almost  with  regret  upon 
the  forthcoming  introduction  of  other  people  into  her 
life.  Roger,  in  whom  this  latter  feeling  was  stronger, 
echoed  the  faint  sigh  with  which  she  spoke. 

"  If  it  were  not  for  Billy  Lansing's  sister,  I  believe 
I  'd  leave  you  at  the  station,  and  go  off  and  prowl  by 
myself  over  this  East  Country,  that  I  don't  know.  I 
don't  believe  I  am  going  to  enjoy  that  houseful  of 
people,  where  I  '11  never  be  a  minute  alone  with  you. 
I  have  a  presentiment  I  shall  be  sorry  that  we  went." 

"Don't  grumble,  Roger — though  I  confess  to  a  like 
apprehension  for  myself.  But  here  we  are  at  Lucy's 
station,  and  that  must  be  Lucy's  carriage  awaiting  us. 
Of  course  you  will  be  civil  to  Billy  Lansing's  sister." 


44  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

Grateful  to  every  sense  was  the  change  from  cush- 
ioned railway-seat  to  open  carriage,  as  they  drove 
through  a  rich  rural  country,  the  roadsides  spring- 
ing with  flowers;  past  thatched  cottages,  and  stone 
churches  with  round  "bell-towers,  and  wayside  inns 
bearing  the  quaintest  names  on  their  swinging  signs 
—  everywhere  the  tokens  of  a  region  that  knows  no 
change  save  the  passing  of  generations  and  the  birth 
of  new  leaves  and  lambs. 

"  It 's  like  a  page  from  Hardy,"  Roger  said.  "  And 
what  a  smell  of  woods  and  fields ! " 

"Dear  me,  how  the  toll-gate  and  village  women 
drop  courtesies  to  Lucy's  livery,"  said  Paulina.  "I 
am  beginning  to  realize  that  she  is  Lady  Edmund, 
and  that  in  her  carriage  I  must  hold  myself  with 
dignity." 

"  And  when  I  remember,"  meditated  Mrs.  Standish, 
"what  trouble  they  had  to  make  Lucy's  teeth  even, 
when  she  was  a  child !  Woodbury,  my  love,  don't  let 
me  forget  to  take  you  to  the  dentist  as  soon  as  we  get 
back  to  London.  I  shall  be  really  glad  to  see  Lucy 
again." 

Seven  miles  of  smooth  going  had  cleared  their 
lungs  of  railway  smoke,  when  the  footman,  turning 
on  the  box,  touched  his  hat,  and  said : 

"Wooton  Magna  village,  sir.  The  Hall  is  just 
beyond." 

Commonplace  in  the  casket  of  English  gems  was 
this  sequestered  hamlet  of  thatched-roofed  cottages 
gathered  around  a  pond  where  water-lilies  grew  and 
ducks  and  children  paddled ;  where,  later  in  the  sea- 
son, cows,  standing  breast-high  in  the  water,  would 
seek  the  shadow  of  its  overhanging  trees.  From  the 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  45 

tiny  houses,  with  their  diamond-paned  lattices,  the 
unusual  warmth  had  coaxed  grandams  and  grand- 
sires,  who  sat  sunning  themselves  under  the  roses  and 
woodbine  trained  above  their  doors,  or  stood  in  the 
garden-patches  where  already  blue  comf  rey  had  drawn 
the  bees,  who  forsake  for  it  flowers  of  another  color. 

Upon  the  passing  of  the  Hall  carriage,  these  old 
people  blinked  and  bobbed  obeisance,  the  children 
stopping  play  to  follow  suit. 

And  now  through  a  lodge-gate  into  a  deep  wood 
jubilant  with  bird-songs,  through  an  avenue  of  Portu- 
gal laurel,  rhododendron,  and  arbor-vitae,  into  open 
park  ground,  and  Wooton  Magna  Hall  came  in  sight. 

It  was  a  great  square  pile  of  brick  with  marble  fac- 
ings and  many  windows  and  chimneys ;  and  on  the 
front  steps,  that  seemed  freshly  coated  with  pipe-clay, 
so  dazzling  white  were  they,  two  footmen  assisted  the 
arrivals  to  descend,  and  ushered  them  across  a  hall 
filled  with  stuffed  birds  and  fishes,  into  the  long 
chintz-furnished  drawing-room,  hung  around  with 
water-colors,  and  littered  with  modern  bibelots,  where 
a  grate-fire  of  coal  and  wood  was  burning,  despite  the 
warmth  of  the  afternoon. 

"  I  think  my  lady  must  have  stepped  out  into  the 
garden,"  said  the  footman,  who  had  been  gazing  in 
search  of  her  with  a  faintly  puzzled  look  into  china 
cabinets  and  jardinieres.  Directly  thereafter  a  pair 
of  glass  doors  leading  into  a  flowery  realm  outside 
flew  open,  and  my  lady,  carrying  a  rosy  English 
baby  in  her  arms,  ran  into  the  room. 

"  You  dears,  you  dears,  you  dears ! "  was  what 
Lucy  said;  and,  kissing  them  all  save  Roger,  she 
consoled  him  by  letting  him  hold  the  baby. 


IV 


ES,"  said  Lucy,  "this  is  my  little 
Alan;  and  I  assure  you,  if  he  had 
been  an  Edith  or  a  Gwendolyn,  I  ?d 
have  been  much  less  thought  of 
in  the  family.  Is  n't  he  a  duck, 
Roger?  But,  there,  you  may  give 
him  to  nurse  now,  and  hurry  with  your  tea.  I  want 
you  out  in  the  garden  while  it  is  so  warm  and  lovely. 
There  's  no  knowing  what  a  night  will  bring  forth 
in  the  way  of  weather  here.  Yes,  Mrs.  Standish; 
Amaranth  Clyde  came  yesterday  with  —  whom  do 
you  suppose?  —  your  old  neighbor  in  Thirty-third 
street,  Mabel  Whitman  that  was." 

"My  dear,"  interposed  Mrs.  Standish,  helplessly, 
"did  you  visit  the  Whitmans  at  home?" 

"Oh,  dear!  no;  but  she  's  Mrs.  Lancelot  Kirby 
now,  and  goes  everywhere  on  this  side.  The  men 
admire  that  unearthly  whiteness  of  her  skin,  and 
lately  she  's  got  a  new  pose.  She  walks  with  a  tor- 
toise-shell stick,  and  wears  black  with  lots  of  jet,  and 
does  mind-reading.  It  takes  tremendously.  Ama- 
ranth and  she  are  great  chums.  Be  careful,  though, 
how  you  speak  to  Mabel  of  her  former  home,  and  her 
relatives  in  New  York.  She  will  summon  them  up  by 

46 


AN  EERANT  WOOING  47 

the  greatest  effort  of  memory,  and  call  them  'those 
people/  as  if  they  were  subjects  of  Queen  Liliuoka- 
lani.  Toodles,  you  angel,  if  you  don't  eat  up  all  that 
seed-cake  I  '11  never  believe  in  you  again.  You  and 
I  '11  go  presently  to  see  the  pheasants  on  their  nests ; 
and  I  've  made  Ned  promise  to  send  you  rook-shoot- 
ing to-morrow,  since  there  's  nothing  else  to  kill  at 
this  season.  You  might  shoot  rabbits  from  your 
bedroom  window,  but  if  you  hit  one  of  the  gar- 
dener's men  he  would  n't  like  it,  would  he?  A  let- 
tuce sandwich,  Roger  ?  How  we  shall  talk  about  our 
dear  old  Billy!  And  whom  have  we  here  besides? 
Oh,  Mr.  Lucius  Cartwright,  our  swell  New  York 
lawyer,  who  is  abroad  on  a  flying  journey  for  his 
health;  and  Paddy  Blount,  my  husband's  youngest 
brother,  the  nicest  boy,  who  wants  you  and  Billy  to 
take  him  on  the  ranch.  Our  great  gun  is  my  hus- 
band's cousin,  Lady  Emily  Borges,  a  fine  lady  of 
London  society,  who  is  out  riding  with  Ned  just 
now.  She  does  n't  show  up  till  it 's  time  to  ride  or 
drive  in  the  afternoon.  Between  you  and  me,  Polly, 
she  is  painted  like  a  house-front  in  town  in  April. 
Her  follower  is  Gerald  Mortimer.  He  's  been  on  the 
stage,  but  you  need  n't  bother  even  thinking  about 
him ;  he  's  perfectly  harmless.  Lady  Emily  is  mar- 
ried to  a  Brazilian  baron,  who  is  at  present  in  Brazil, 
trying  to  pick  up  the  remnants  of  his  property  that 
went  to  pot  when  their  emperor  went  out.  Then  — 
let  me  see — just  one  little  cup  more,  dear  Mrs. 
Standish  —  there  's  Mr.  Clarkson,  who  was  in  our 
legation  at  Rome  last  year.  Such  a  nice  fellow,  if 
he  did  n't  look  at  our  own  country  through  the  broad 


48  AN  EERANT  WOOING 

end  of  an  opera-glass.  Take  him  in  hand,  Polly, 
and  make  him  get  rid  of  his  nonsense.  Ted  prefers 
Americans  just  now,  and  so  there  are  n't  so  many 
of  his  pals  as  usual.  Lord  Barchester  's  coming  to- 
morrow, but  Amaranth  will  want  him,  and  there  's 
not  much  chance  for  the  rest  of  us." 

"And  does  Lord  Barchester  want  her?"  queried 
Eoger. 

"Nobody  knows  exactly;  but  if  pork  remains 
steady,  Mrs.  Clyde  has  hopes.  Now,  if  you  are 
ready,  shall  we  look  at  the  house  first,  or  go  out? 
Go  out  ?  Yes,  I  think  so,  too ;  as  it  is  n't  my  house, 
I  feel  less  interest  in  showing  off  the  Gilchrist  be- 
longings. By  the  way,  here  I  am  forgetting  my 
greatest  achievement!  Sir  Piers  is  in  England,  at 
the  dower-house,  and  I  've  got  him  to  promise  to 
come  to  dinner  this  evening.  Polly,  let  's  have  one 
look  at  his  picture  before  you  go — just  here,  in  the 
hall — his  living  image.  Now,  can't  you  see  why  I 
am  proud  of  my  success?" 

"How  did  you  contrive  it?"  asked  Polly,  as  they 
stood  under  the  full-length  portrait  of  a  remarkably 
good-looking  young  man  in  shooting-costume,  his 
dog  at  his  heels. 

"  Oh,  Ted  and  I  were  riding  yesterday,  and  stopped 
at  the  dower-house  for  Ted  to  speak  to  Sir  Piers 
about  drains  or  something,  and  he  came  out  to  be 
introduced  to  me.  Don't  be  jealous,  Roger, —  Ted 
was  not, —  when  I  say  that  our  landlord  is  my  ideal 
of  manly  beauty,  and  so  nice,  and,  in  spite  of  all  his 
troubles,  hardly  older-looking  than  when  this  was 
taken,  twenty  years  ago.  Forty-one  next  birthday, 


AN  ERRANT   WOOING  49 

so  the  old  village  women  tell  you  —  married,  soon 
after  he  came  of  age,  to  that  woman  in  the  white 
satin  court-dress,  over  the  door  in  the  library.  Stun- 
ning, dark,  sullen  beauty,  is  n't  she!  —  while  he  is 
fair  and  open  as  the  day.  If  I  could,  I  'd  hang  some- 
thing over  her  portrait  before  he  comes  to-night; 
but  I  suppose  he  is  hardened  by  this  time.  Seven- 
teen years  since  she  left  him  —  who  could  mourn 
over  a  bad  woman  seventeen  years?" 

"  She  is  dead  long  since  ! "  asked  Roger. 

"  Dead  and  forgotten.  Every  one  wonders  why  he 
does  n't  marry  some  heiress,  and  pull  his  property 
together,  and  live  in  England,  and  give  his  daughter 
a  home.  Did  I  tell  you  the  girl  is  coming  to  dinner, 
too?  She  was  presented  at  the  drawing-room  last 
week,  and  lie  has  brought  her  up  here  to  make  ac- 
quaintance with  his  place  and  people.  The  village 
people  treat  the  child  as  if  she  were  a  disinherited 
princess  returned  to  claim  her  own,  and  I  feel  more 
than  ever  like  a  usurper.  The  Gilchrists  are  just 
camping  out  at  Itie  dower-house  with  the  old  Dame 
Durden  who  keeps  it,  and  a  maid  who  came  with 
the  girl." 

"Lucy,  this  is  exciting!"  cried  Polly.  ""We  Ve 
met  Miss  Gilchrist.  She  is  like  Hans  Andersen's 
Snow  Princess,  and  I  don't  believe  you  can  get  a 
word  out  of  her  at  dinner." 

"We  will  let  Roger  take  her  in,"  said  Lady  Ed- 
mund, merrily.  "  Now  come.  To-morrow,  if  it  rains, 
you  may  study  the  Gilchrists,  root  and  branch.  If 
you  had  seen  this  old  barracks  before  I  took  it  in 
hand,  and  put  in  a  cart-load  of  rugs  and  cushions, 


50  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

and  lighted  fires  everywhere,  and  made  the  gardener 
furious  by  ordering  in  half  his  plants !  Now  it 's  a 
nice  enough  old  place.  This  way  —  o-oh!"  And, 
while  crossing  the  hall,  her  ladyship  stopped  short, 
cocked  her  head  to  one  side  like  a  bird,  and  listened 
with  a  ravished  smile. 

"  What  is  it,  my  dear  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Standish. 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Lucy,  blushing.  "  That  is,  I 
heard  baby  crowing  in  the  nursery  up-stairs  when 
they  opened  the  door.  Now,  Mrs.  Standish,  dearest, 
you  can  understand.  Tell  me  if  you  really  ever  saw 
a  finer  child  than  Alan  ?  " 

She  led  the  way,  with  her  arm  in  the  older  lady's, 
across  a  green-shorn  space  beyond  which  a  terraced 
garden  fell  away,  separated  by  a  little  lake  from  the 
velvet  slopes  and  wooded  hollows  of  the  park.  Pass- 
ing through  an  iron  gateway  in  a  high  brick  wall 
to  one  side,  they  came  into  a  garden  whose  inner 
walls  were  thick  with  pear-trees  in  blossom,  with 
white  jasmine,  flowering  almond,  Marechal  Niel 
roses,  clematis,  purple  and  white  —  all  a  mass  of 
luxuriant  bloom,  the  beds  otherwise  stocked  with  the 
homely  flowers  that  make  the  charm  of  an  English 
spring.  In  the  glass  houses  finer  fruits  and  flowers 
were  well  on  their  way  to  perfection ;  and  there  Lucy, 
noticing  Toodles's  enamoured  gaze  at  a  row  of  pots 
of  huge  strawberries,  joined  him  in  nefarious  plun- 
der of  a  bunch,  with  which  they  ran  away  down  a 
garden  walk,  and  hid  from  the  gardener  to  enjoy  it. 

"Look  here,  Lady  —  Lucy,"  said  Toodles,  casting 
around  for  a  title  for  his  friend  of  earlier  days,  "you 
are  the  first  person  I  've  had  to  tell  about  it.  I  don't 
think  Polly  is  playing  a  bit  fair  with  Roger." 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  51 

"  Why,  dear  ?  "  said  Lucy,  guilelessly. 

"  He  's  the  best  fellow  I  ever  saw.  He  could  do 
anything,  and  yet  he  just  dawdles  around  after  her, 
and  won't  go  off  with  me,  no  matter  how  I  beg. 
Nobody  can  stay  always  with  women,  you  know,  and 
not  get  kind  o'  silly." 

"  No,  certainly,"  said  Lucy. 

"And  that  Polly  does  things  no  fellow  ought  to 
stand.  She  bosses  dreadfully,  and  interrupts  Roger, 
and  cuts  him  up.  I  can't  see  why  Roger  should  want 
to  marry  her ;  do  you  1  No ;  you  take  the  last  straw- 
berry"—  this  somewhat  bitterly — "I  should  think 
you  'd  know  I  would  n't  take  it  away  from  a  girl." 

"Open  your  mouth  and  shut  your  eyes,  and  I  '11 
give  you  something  to  make  you  wise,  Toodles,"  she 
cried ;  then,  seizing  the  opportunity  of  his  lips  apart 
for  protest,  popped  between  them  a  rich,  red,  juicy 
giant  that  for  the  moment  silenced  him. 

"  Is  n't  it  a  nice  old-granny  garden  1 "  she  said,  as 
the  others  came  up  with  them.  "  And  here  beyond 
is  the  far-famed  "Wooton  Magna  court  for  bowls, 
where  we  '11  find  some  of  them  having  their  tea." 

A  step  through  an  iron  gateway  flanked  by  pea- 
cocks cut  from  yew,  and,  behold !  they  were  in  the 
eighteenth  century.  In  this  green-walled  close  the 
grass  was  wonderfully  fine,  and  smooth,  and  thick. 
Some  preceding  generation  had  set  in  the  middle  of 
it  a  now  moss-grown  sun-dial,  and  planted  in  the 
borders  a  row  of  standard  rose-bushes.  At  one  end 
an  arbor  dripping  with  purple  wistaria  contained  a 
wicker  tea-table,  around  which  fair  women  and  some 
men  were  grouped  in  the  westering  sunshine. 

The  spot,  the  tall  silver  urn,  the  fluted  china  cups 


52  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

that  came  and  went  under  the  superintendence  of 
my  lady's  footmen,  belonged  to  the  period  of  patch 
and  powder;  bnt  of  the  fag-end  of  the  nineteenth 
century  were  the  people,  their  ways  and  talk. 

Mrs.  Lancelot  Kirby,  a  pallid,  muse-like  personage, 
who  wore  her  hair  drawn  in  night-black  bands  over 
her  ears,  stopped  in  her  talk  with  Amaranth  Clyde 
and  Mr.  Cartwright  to  give  a  nod  and  two  fingers 
to  her  old  neighbors  from  West  Thirty-third  street. 
That  she  was  handsomer,  better  dressed,  than  Mabel 
Whitman  ever  had  been,  that  she  had  toned  down, 
adopted  the  soft  English  speech,  was  much  to  Mrs. 
Kirby's  credit.  And  Mrs.  Standish,  who  had  made 
up  her  conservative  mind  to  let  Mabel  at  once  know 
she  was  not  to  be  imposed  upon  by  exotic  airs  and 
graces,  found  the  attempt  a  distinct  failure. 

As  for  Amaranth,  she  might  have  been  "  born  any- 
body," her  admirers  were  wont  to  say.  Her  small 
head,  set  on  a  long,  white  throat,  had  the  features  of  a 
certain  Greek  goddess  in  the  Lateran  museum.  Her  skin 
was  fine  and  pure  of  grain ;  her  brown  locks,  knotted 
lightly  behind,  were  silken  soft ;  the  lines  of  her  form 
perfect.  How  could  such  a  creature  come  from  pro- 
genitors whose  proudest  boast  was  that  they  could 
put  a  pig  in  at  one  end  of  a  machine,  and  bring  him 
out  ham,  chine,  spare-ribs,  or  sausages  at  the  other  ? 

Yet  here  was  Miss  Amaranth,  forsooth,  prating 
about  the  drawing-room,  the  Row,  the  good  ball  and 
the  bad  ball,  the  habits  and  haunts  of  duchesses,  the 
late  sayings  to  her  of  royalty !  She  spoke  kindly  to 
Mrs.  Standish  and  Polly,  however,  but  was  a  trifle 
cool  to  Roger.  Was  not  Lord  Barchester  to  arrive 
upon  the  morrow  ? 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  53 

Between  these  two  charmers,  sitting  well  back  in  a 
Market  Harborough  chair,  balancing  his  egg-shell 
tea-cup  with  a  plate  containing  buttered  brown  bread, 
as  deftly  as  he  had  balanced  the  lawsuits  that  made 
him  rich  and  famous,  was  Mr.  Cartwright.  It  was  the 
first  time  in  years  that  he  had  been  fairly  out  of  har- 
ness for  an  acknowledged  holiday,  and  he  had  run 
down  from  London  to  spend  three  days  with  his  client 
Lady  Edmund  Blount,  wooed  by  the  information  that 
other  pretty  Americans  were  to  be  of  the  party. 
For  Mr.  Cartwright,  like  many  another  grave  and 
reverend  signer,  had  found  out,  near  the  end  of  the 
long,  hard  struggle  for  fame  and  fortune  in  New  York, 
that  there  are  apples  of  Hesperides  to  be  had  for  the 
plucking.  He  might  mention  Lady  Blount's  house, 
husband,  baby,  in  his  weekly  letters  to  Mrs.  Cart- 
wright and  the  girls,  but  we  question  whether  he 
would  tell  about  this  rather  ponderous  little  flirtation 
he  had  struck  up  with  Mabel  Kirby.  As  good  Mrs. 
Cartwright  innocently  said  to  her  friends  at  home, 
"  There  is  so  much  he  can  do  on  the  other  side  that 
he  can't  do  here,  poor  love." 

Into  the  keeping  of  Lord  Patrick,  a  kindly,  long- 
legged,  red-headed  youth  in  flannels,  Master  Toodles 
was  consigned  for  a  visit  to  stables,  kennels,  and  keep- 
ers' cottages.  As  they  went  off  across  the  long  shad- 
ows cast  by  great  trees  upon  the  turf  outside  the 
bowling-court,  Toodles  was  surprised  by  the  request 
from  an  approaching  menial  for  his  keys,  which  he 
surrendered  in  silence,  determined  not  to  let  "  that 
lord  fellow "  see  that  he  was  not  "  up  to  everything." 
It  was  a  relief  to  him,  later,  to  find  in  a  yellow  room, 
like  the  heart  of  a  sunflower,  assigned  to  him  in  the 


54  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

bachelor's  wing,  that  his  "belongings  were  unpacked 
and  neatly  disposed  in  drawers  and  wardrobe,  whilst 
on  the  bed  lay  his  evening  clothes — an  attention  not 
paid  Toodles  since  he  was  valeted  by  his  old  nurse 
Bridget,  who,  however,  never  thought  of  putting  the 
buttons  in  his  shirt. 

Mrs.  Standish  fell  into  conversation  with  Mr.  Clark- 
son,  whom  she  had  seen  latterly  in  Rome.  Roger  and 
Lucy  walked  away  down  a  "  pleached  alley,"  he  to  tell, 
she  to  hear,  about  her  twin  brother  in  Wyoming.  To 
Polly  remained  the  alternative  of  joining  in  conver- 
sation with  the  two  women  and  Mr.  Cartwright,  or 
(which  she  attempted)  of  making  it  for  the  benefit  of 
the  esthetic  Mortimer,  who  had  "  been  on  the  stage," 
and  whom  she  was  n't  to  "  bother  thinking  about." 
From  this  intellectual  banquet  she  soon  turned,  satis- 
fied, to  hear  what  Mr.  Cartwright  had  to  say. 

"It  is  such  a  sensible,  commendable  affair,  this 
five-o'clock  tea,"  that  gentleman  was  remarking,  his 
clear-cut,  shrewd  face,  relaxed  in  every  line,  looking 
from  his  cup  to  the  beautiful  scene  about  him,  then 
back  to  the  smiling  faces  turned  upon  him.  "  I  '11  de- 
clare, I  am  perfectly  in  love  with  it — " 

Here  he  stopped  suddenly.  Memory,  the  pitiless 
one,  had  conjured  up  into  the  mind's  eye  of  the  dis- 
tinguished American  a  vision  of  the  tea-table  spread 
religiously  by  Mrs.  Cartwright  and  the  girls  in  the 
front  parlor  of  their  brownstone  house  in  New  York. 
To  this,  on  arriving  from  the  nearest  station  of  the 
elevated  railway,  jaded  and  captious  after  a  long 
day  in  court,  with  a  bundle  of  papers  in  his  pocket, 
and  his  hat  a  little  back  upon  his  head,  how  often  had 


AN  EKKANT  WOOING  55 

he  been  bidden  by  the  domestic  deities ;  and  how  often 
had  he  turned  away  with  the  remark,  "  I  should  think, 
Maria,  by  this  time  you  'd  know  better  than  to  offer 
me  that  stuff ! " 

"  I  may  tell  you  a  rather  droll  experience  of  a  client 
of  mine  on  his  first  visit  to  England  ? "  he  hastened  to 
observe.  "  He  is  a  worthy,  estimable  man,  with  a 
keen  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  and  a  limited  experience 
in  the  customs  of  the  leisure  class  of  society.  A 
banker,  to  whom  he  was  accredited  in  London  in  a 
matter  of  business,  invited  him  to  pass  the  night  at 
his  country  house.  Arriving  at  the  station  late  on  a 
winter's  afternoon,  my  friend  was  driven  a  couple  of 
miles  through  a  frosty  atmosphere  to  his  entertainer's 
house.  Received  with  all  civility,  he  found  the  house- 
hold at  tea  around  a  welcome  fire,  where,  standing  up 
to  thaw  out,  he  consumed  two  cups  of  tea,  a  few  thin 
slices  of  bread  and  butter,  a  cheese-straw,  and  a  bit 
of  cake,  without  feeling  his  appetite  appeased.  Soon 
after,  seeing  the  company  break  up,  one  by  one  taking 
a  candle  from  a  table  in  the  hall  and  gliding  away, 
my  client,  supposing  this  to  mean  bedtime,  was  led 
off  by  a  servant.  He  was  ushered  into  a  most  com- 
fortable room,  fire  burning,  easy-chair,  all  that  could 
be  desired,  where,  after  a  few  moments'  indulgence 
in  melancholy  reflection  upon  the  frugal  notions  of 
British  householders  as  to  an  evening  meal,  he  un- 
dressed and  went  to  bed.  He  had  hardly  fallen  asleep 
when  he  was  aroused  by  the  noise  of  a  gong,  and  a 
touch  upon  his  shoulder  by  a  servant :  '  Beg  pardon, 
sir,  but  the  dinner  is  just  served.'" 

"  Is  that  true  ? "  asked  Mabel  Kirby. 


56  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"  Absolutely  true." 

"  I  should  think  Mr.  Cartwright  would  have  more 
pride  than  to  tell  such  ridiculous  things  about  one 
of  our  own  countrymen,"  whispered  Mrs.  Standish  to 
Clarkson,  who  quite  agreed  with  her. 

"Luckily,  we  are  all  Americans  here,"  Polly  re- 
marked, overlooking  the  shadowy  Mortimer. 

"Oh,  so  you  are!"  said  Mrs.  Kirby,  languidly. 
"  Do  go  on,  dear  Mr.  Cartwright,  and  tell  me  some 
more  of  your  droll  American  anecdotes.  I  am  mak- 
ing a  collection  of  them  to  amuse  Lord  Kenmore 
when  we  go  to  Kirkington.  Sometimes  I  can't  be- 
lieve that  I  was  ever  really  over  there  in  New  York. 
It  entertains  me  to  hear  about  it,  really  it  does." 

"  It 's  your  turn,  now,  to  entertain  me.  Don't  you 
know  what  Emerson  says  ?  '  In  the  art  of  conversa- 
tion woman  is  the  lawgiver.' " 

"Emerson1?  Is  he  one  of  your  funny  men,  who 
travel  about  and  have  dinners  given  them,  and  peo- 
ple tell  their  jokes  over  again  in  country  houses?" 
asked  Mrs.  Kirby,  prettily. 

"I  '11  forgive  you,  Mabel,"  said  the  lawyer.  "A 
few  nights  ago  an  Englishwoman  informed  me  that 
Longfellow  is  the  one  of  the  English  poets  she  likes 
best ;  and  I  recently  had  the  honor  of  meeting  one  of 
your  new  compatriots,  a  young  lady  of  high  position, 
who  said  to  me  she  had  never  been  inside  Westmin- 
ster Abbey — much  less  the  Tower  of  London." 

"  When  you  begin  to  call  to  account  poor  creatures 
who  are  in  the  treadmill  of  society,  it  is  time  for  me 
to  leave,"  said  Mrs.  Kirby.  "Reach  me  my  stick, 


AN  ERRANT   WOOING  67 

please,  Mr.  Mortimer.  I  'm  going  to  get  a  little  rest 
for  the  strain  on  me  this  evening.  Of  course  you 
all  know  Lucy  's  been  lucky  enough  to  secure  Miss 
Chester,  the  mind-reader,  to  come  for  a  night,  and 
she  is  to  give  us  an  exhibition  after  dinner. 

"Delightful  rubbish!"  said  Mr.  Cartwright. 

"For  shame,  dear  Mr.  Cartwright!  I  thought,  from 
the  way  you  talked  of  it  last  night,  you  were  a  com- 
plete convert  to  my  views." 

"I  talked  of  it  as  the  young  man  who  had  spent 
several  years  in  informing  himself  about  the  Cau- 
casus talked  with  Mr.  Gladstone  on  that  subject. 
After  the  interview  was  over,  Mr.  Gladstone  said  he 
had  never  met  any  one  who  knew  so  much  about 
the  Caucasus  as  this  visitor.  Man  said  he  had  n't 
once  opened  his  mouth!" 

"But  you  will  promise  me  to  give  the  matter 
thought  and  close  attention,"  pursued  Mrs.  Kirby, 
with  the  important  insistence  dull  people  often  use 
to  impose  their  insignificance  on  clever  ones. 

"  Yes ;  oh,  yes.  Anything  you  ask  me,  Mabel,  with 
that  pretty  mouth.  But  I  may  as  well  warn  you  that, 
in  this  business  of  communion  with  the  unseen  that 's 
agitating  both  stupid  and  sensible  folk  nowadays,  I 
heartily  indorse  a  saying  of  an  American  woman 
that  deserves  to  be  embalmed :  '  If  my  dead  relatives 
will  come  to  me  only  through  the  crack  in  the  brain 
of  an  epileptic,  I  don't  want  to  converse  with  them.'  *' 

"  Oh,  but  I  won't  be  offended.  You  must  talk  more 
with  me,  and  know  Miss  Chester,  and  you  '11  believe," 
said  Mabel,  as  with  much  movement  she  arose,  and, 


58  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

leaning  on  the  tortoise-shell  stick,  went  off  across  the 
turf  with  Mr.  Mortimer,  who  at  least  knew  how  to 
lend  himself  to  a  pose. 

"I  could  hardly  keep  my  feelings  in/7  remarked 
Mrs.  Standish,  to  whom  Mr.  Cartwright  now  turned. 
"  What  an  absurd  creature  she  has  become !  Only 
three  years  since  she  married  and  came  here  to  live. 
And  never  to  ask  after  her  aunt  and  her  own  first 
cousins,  when  she  knows  they  live  next  door  to  us  in 
New  York!" 

"Fortunately,  she  has  time  to  live  down  her  fol- 
lies," answered  Mr.  Cartwright,  who,  now  that  he  was 
deserted  by  youth  and  beauty,  had  lost  his  enam- 
oured smile,  and  was  businesslike  again. 

Next  came  upon  the  scene  their  host  and  his  cousin 
Lady  Emily. 

It  was  no  wonder  to  Lucy's  friends  that  she  had 
fallen  romantically  in  love  with  Teddy  Blount,  who 
had  an  Irish  way  with  him  few  people  could  resist; 
always  ready  for  a  laugh,  a  game,  a  jest,  a  lilt,  his 
honest  eyes  meeting  his  interlocutor's  squarely,  his 
voice  clear  and  hearty,  with  just  a  little  something 
in  it  to  suggest  his  forebears  in  Erin. 

Lady  Emily,  the  first  specimen  of  a  London  fine 
lady  with  whom  Polly  had  been  thrown  in  familiar 
intercourse,  had  the  square  shoulders,  flat  back, 
steady,  imperial  walk  of  her  class ;  but  her  unnat- 
urally high  bloom,  small  waist,  and  darkened  eyes 
suggested  a  "little"  lady  of  the  Bois  or  the  Cas- 
cine  rather  than  one  of  England's  great.  That  she 
smoked  cigarettes,  used  at  moments  more  than  strong 
language,  made  her  luncheon  on  grilled  bones  with 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  59 

Scotch  whisky  and  soda,  rode  splendidly  to  hounds, 
boasted  of  her  eleven  stone  two  in  weight  and  her 
five  foot  ten  in  height,  and  out-flirted  any  woman  in 
the  party,  were  details  to  be  revealed  to  the  further 
confusion  of  Mrs.  Standish's  Puritan  spirit.  Just 
now  it  was  quite  enough  for  her  when  she  heard 
Lady  Emily,  who,  to  her  knowledge,  had  met  Mr. 
Cartwright  for  the  first  time  only  the  night  before, 
salute  him  as  "  good  old  boy,"  and  ask  him  to  pour 
her  out  a  cup  of  tea. 

For  Mr.  Cartwright,  to  whom  all  was  fish  that 
came  into  his  belated  net,  the  sensation  was  rather 
a  pleasing  titillation.  At  any  rate,  he  laughed  and 
obeyed,  going  off  with  Lady  Emily  afterward  for  a 
stroll  in  the  garden,  while  Mrs.  Standish  gave  up 
battling  with  thoughts  of  what  Mrs.  Cartwright  and 
the  girls  would  say,  and  remained  astonished  in  her 
wicker  chair. 

It  was  in  bright  sunlight  that  they  dressed  for 
dinner,  set  for  eight  o'clock.  Polly,  in  her  little 
white  bower  of  dimity  and  old  mahogany  opening 
from  the  room  assigned  to  her  mama,  dawdled,  and, 
leaning  from  the  window,  let  her  eyes  plunge  into 
the  dewy  distance  of  the  park,  watching  the  play- 
ful rabbits  that  came  out  of  their  burrows  to  disport 
on  the  velvet  carpet  of  turf  around  the  house.  What 
seclusion,  what  verdure,  what  grand  old  trees ! 

To-morrow  Lucy  and  she  were  to  drive  Toodles 
and  Lord  Patrick  to  the  rookery,  and  leave  them 
there  to  shoot.  How  nice  to  get  away  with  Lucy 
from  this  set  of  unreal  people,  so  fantastic  in  their 
assumption  of  something  to  which  they  were  not 


60  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

born!  And  then  her  mind  reverted  to  and  toyed 
with  the  image  of  the  English  maiden,  so  fair  and 
shy,  whose  rightful  home  this  was.  What  a  way,  to 
come  back  after  long  years  of  exile,  and  find  it  pos- 
sessed by  a  chattering  crew  who  hold  nothing  in 
respect ! 

"Poor  child!"  mused  Polly.  "It  almost  makes 
me  cry.  I  shall  be  nice  to  her.  She  shall  be  mine 
after  dinner  in  the  drawing-room.  It  will  please 
Lucy  to  have  me  take  care  of  her.  And  I  am  really 
curious  to  see  that  father,  though  he  will  be  less 
attractive,  naturally.  A  widower  of  forty-one  may 
be  interesting  to  his  tenants,  but  hardly  to  anybody 
else." 

Polly  was  behindhand.  The  voice  of  Toodles  at 
her  door,  inquiring  frantically  if  she  would  pin  his 
white  tie  at  the  back,  as  his  mother  had  already  gone 
down-stairs,  brought  her  to  a  sense  of  her  derelic- 
tion. She  made  Toodles  wait  for  her  in  the  vestibule 
with  its  swing-doors  of  baize  that  shut  off  their 
rooms  from  a  longer  corridor.  As  the  brother  and 
sister  ran  along  this  passageway  together,  they  were 
overtaken  by  Lady  Edmund. 

"  I  'm  late,  too ;  but  never  mind :  come  in  one  min- 
ute, and  see  baby  before  he  goes  to  sleep.  I  don't 
doubt  we  '11  find  Ted  in  there,  too;  I  heard  him 
leave  his  room  five  minutes  since.  Here," —  opening 
a  door, —  "is  n't  this  a  jolly  nursery?  Oh,  Ted!  I 
knew  you  were  there.  Give  me  my  blessed  son. 
Don't  you  see  he  's  crumpling  your  shirt-front? 
And,  besides,  whenever  he  can  get  you  he  won't 
come  to  me." 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  61 

Warmed  by  this  little  glimpse  of  unaffected  na- 
ture, Polly  ran  down  the  stairs  in  the  wake  of  Lucy ; 
and,  looking  in  at  the  library  door,  she  saw,  in  the 
fuller  light  of  lamps,  the  splendid,  sullen  beauty  of 
the  last  mistress  of  Wooton  Magna  gaze  down  at  her 
with  a  look  almost  of  menace  in  her  eye. 

A  moment  later  they  were  in  the  drawing-room, 
and  Lucy's  attention  was  claimed  by  some  neighbors 
who  had  driven  to  dinner  from  eight  miles  distant 
(fetching  their  footman  to  help  to  wait,  after  the 
friendly  old  county  fashion).  Directly  afterward 
arrived  the  rector  and  his  wife,  a  high-nosed  lady 
wearing  a  black  satin  gown  of  which  the  front  pre- 
sented a  parterre  of  marguerites  painted  in  oils. 
Mrs.  Trefusis,  who  also  wore  white  silk  mittens, 
came  of  a  noble  family,  wrote  sweet  books  for  girls, 
and  was  to  be  placed  on  the  left  side  of  her  host, 
Lady  Emily  Borges  taking  the  seat  of  honor.  And 
then  all  eyes  centered  upon  the  unpretending  en- 
trance of  the  owner  of  Wooton  Magna. 

Polly  had  immediate  reason  to  withdraw  her  deci- 
sion that  Sir  Piers  lacked  interest  save  as  a  landlord. 
He  was  without  doubt  the  most  striking  figure  her 
gaze  had  ever  rested  upon:  blond,  of  great  height, 
of  athletic  person,  his  face  giving  an  impression  of 
manly  force  and  boyish  simplicity  rare  among  the 
representatives  of  a  similar  class  in  her  own  coun- 
try,—  exhaling  straightforwardness,  she  said  to  her- 
self while  trying  to  find  a  phrase, —  and  so  youthful 
it  was  hard  to  imagine  the  pink-tinted  blossom  at  his 
elbow  had  put  out  from  his  parent  stem. 

Miss  Gilchrist,  in  a  white  Liberty-silk  frock  tied 


62  AN  EKEANT  WOOING 

with  a  yellow  sash,  looked  like  a  Christmas  card. 
When  Roger,  obedient  to  a  nod  from  his  hostess, 
tucked  her  under  his  arm,  and  fell  into  the  long 
line  ending  with  Toodles  and  Paddy  Blount,  he  sent 
a  glance,  which  she  well  understood,  to  Paulina  in 
custody  of  a  neighboring  young  squire. 

The  table,  decked  with  primroses  in  a  geometrical 
pattern  of  flowers  and  leaves  laid  upon  the  cloth, 
having  bunches  of  primroses  in  pale-green  glasses 
between  candles  with  pale-green  shades,  was  scanned 
by  the  artistic  and  political  bias  of  the  company  with 
approbation.  In  the  midst  of  the  light  discussion 
that  ensued,  Polly  looked  about  her  with  curiosity. 

There  was  Amaranth,  easily  the  most  beautiful 
woman  present,  sitting  on  the  other  side  of  Lord 
Barchester,  who  had  taken  in  his  hostess.  Polly 
wondered  whence  her  young  countrywoman  had 
procured  her  adaptability  to  the  mood  of  the  impor- 
tant newcomer,  who,  after  a  few  words  with  Lucy, 
had  settled  down  to  the  business  of  letting  himself  be 
talked  at  by  Miss  Clyde.  Of  his  lordship's  conversa- 
tion she  caught  one  sentence  only. 

"  I  wish  somebody  would  tell  me  why,  when  most 
Englishwomen  are  free,  Frenchwomen  freer,  you 
Americans  are  so  devilish  prudish,"  he  observed; 
and  although  the  response  of  Amaranth  was  inau- 
dible, Polly  felt  its  fine  effect  in  the  manner  of  a 
startled  fawn  that  accompanied  it. 

"Amaranth  is  really  immensely  clever.  She  knows  so 
well  how  not  to  show  it,"  she  found  herself  thinking. 

Mabel  Kirby,  having  left  off  her  jet  by  day  (a 
good  deal  of  it)  and  put  on  her  jet  by  night,  had 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  63 

come  out  in  some  sparkling  black  stuff  with  a  great 
crescent  of  diamonds  above  her  dusky  head,  and  was 
giving  the  benefit  of  this,  her  expanse  of  milk-white 
shoulders,  and  her  views  on  thought-transfer,  to  the 
rector,  who,  emitting  no  suggestion  of  theology,  ate 
everything  and  drank  everything  within  reach,  and 
invited  his  neighbor  to  a  game  of  billiards  after 
dinner.  That  Mabel  felt  rather  than  saw  the  stern 
scorn  of  the  lady  of  the  painted  marguerites  opposite, 
assuredly  did  not  decrease  her  efforts  to  render  the 
situation  agreeable  to  his  Reverence. 

"  Now  you  are  looking  bored,"  she  said.  "  I  must 
think  of  something  in  your  line  to  amuse  you.  I 
heard  last  week  about  a  dean  who  asked  a  Sunday- 
school  child  what  proof  we  have  of  St.  Peter's  re- 
pentance, and  received  for  an  answer,  'Please,  sir, 
he  crowed  three  times.'  And  of  course  you  know 
this  :  '  Little  boy,  what  is  an  epistle  ? '  '  An  epistle 
is  the  wife  of  an  apostle.'  There,  I  have  exhausted 
my  clerical  anecdotes ;  but  don't  laugh,  please ;  your 
wife  is  not  at  all  satisfied  with  me.  We  are  talking 
of  Sunday-schools,  dear  Mrs.  Trefusis,"  she  added, 
raising  her  voice.  "  Your  husband  has  been  telling 
me  about  his  nice  little  choir  of  village  boys,  who 
stick  pins  in  each  other's  calves  while  he  is  preaching. 
What  dears  they  must  be ! " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Cartwright  to  his  host,  "  I  am  told 
that  old  Moe't,  of  Moet  &  Chandon,  once  said  to  a 
visitor:  'You  English  are  the  driest  people  in  the 
world.  The  Russians  are  the  sweetest;  next  to  them, 
Prussians ;  then  the  French  and  Belgians ;  then  the 
Americans;  and  you  English  are  the  driest."7 


64  AN  EKRANT  WOOINO 

"  It  may  be  true,  but  is  that  very  polite  to  tlie  Eng- 
lish, Mr.  Cartwright?"  whispered  Mrs.  Standish,  in 
mild  rebuke. 

"God  bless  me,  madam!  he  meant  in  the  matter 
of  champagnes,"  blurted  her  countryman,  turning 
around  to  look  at  a  literal  American. 

The  snow  maiden  had  thawed  so  far  as  to  say  to 
Roger : 

"  Piers — my  father — I  don't  know  why,  but  I  have 
always  called  him  by  his  name — says  that  I  have  not 
been  in  this  room  since  I  was  two  years  old,  sixteen 
years  ago,  so  of  course  I  don't  remember  it.  He  has 
often  told  me  about  the  pictures  and  these  great 
girandoles  that  his  grandfather  bought  in  Venice. 
I  feel  as  if  I  had  dreamed  the  girandoles.  Oh,  I 
have  had  a  happy  day!  Piers  took  me  to  see  all 
the  village  people,  and  they  were  so  kind  and  nice. 
They  have  told  me  so  much  about  him,  but  nothing 
about  my  mother.  I  don't  even  know  which  is  her 
portrait.  She  died  when  I  was  a  baby,  I  believe.  I 
am  so  wanting  dinner  to  be  over,  that  I  may  ask 
Lady  Edmund  to  show  me  my  mother's  portrait. 
Lady  Edmund  says  I  am  to  take  luncheon  to-morrow 
with  Miss  Standish,  and  play  with  the  baby.  If  all 
Americans  are  like  Lady  Edmund  and  Miss  Standish, 
I  love  them.  How  dreadful  it  will  be  to  go  away 
from  the  dower-house  to  London ;  but  Piers  must  go 
back  to  Spain.  In  summer  he  goes  up  and  lives  with 
the  shepherds  in  the  Hautes- Pyrenees,  and  in  winter 
he  lives  in  towns,  or  shoots  in  Morocco,  or  travels  ; 
his  home  is  in  Granada,  where  he  has  a  little  villa. 
Do  you  think  I  might  tell  you  that  he  says  I  am  to 


AN  EKBANT  WOOING  65 

go  there  next  year,  without  my  aunt,  and  visit  him  ? 
It  is  on  the  side  of  a  steep  hill,  and  there  are  oranges 
and  lemons  and  myrtles  and  palms  growing  in  his 
garden  —  and  a  studio  inside,  modeled  exactly  after 
a  room  in  the  Alhambra.  Every  window  of  his  villa 
looks  on  the  Alhambra  walls,  or  else  on  the  Vega, 
and  the  great  white,  glittering  sierra.  Do  you  think 
I  am  telling  you  too  much?  Would  Miss  Standish 
tell  this  to  a  stranger?" 

Roger,  by  whom  the  foregoing  information  had 
been  extracted  at  first  in  bits,  afterward  in  a  timid 
ripple,  found  something  curiously  touching  in  the 
confidences  of  this  young  person,  so  utterly  removed 
in  habit  of  thought  and  expression  from  the  other 
women  at  the  table.  Her  eye,  meeting  his,  was  that 
of  a  pretty  frightened  animal  venturing  forth  trust- 
fully in  the  presence  of  one  who  has  inspired  in  it 
confidence.  Out  of  the  shadow  of  the  formidable 
Lady  Watson-Jones,  she  had  taken  heart  to  arise,  as 
a  grass-shoot  raises  itself  when  a  stone  has  been 
rolled  away.  So  during  the  remainder  of  the  dinner 
he  talked  to  her  exclusively,  to  the  disgust  of  Lady 
Emily  Borges,  who  had  made  up  her  mind  that  this 
stalwart  American  young  man  offered  food  for  pas- 
time until  her  return  to  town  —  the  rector,  who  was 
on  the  other  hand  of  Miss  G-ilchrist,  having,  as  has 
been  seen,  enough  to  occupy  him  fully. 

Polly's  bright  eyes,  noting  these  things,  were  re- 
claimed to  her  neighbor  on  the  right  by  the  voice 
of  Sir  Piers  in  her  ear. 

"  May  n't  I  show  you  the  menu  ? "  was  his  remark 
while  extending  to  her  the  white  porcelain  plaque 


66  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

exhibiting  the  penciled  bill  of  fare.  "No?  Then, 
please,  a  bit  of  toast,"  and  a  silver  rack  followed. 
"  You  see,  I  am  particular  to  neglect  nothing  conven- 
tional. I  don't  want  you  to  go  up-stairs  and  write  in 
your  diary,  '  Met  a  mad  Englishman,  who  lives  on  a 
mountain-top  in  Spain  and  kept  the  toast  to  himself 
at  table.'  Was  n't  it  a  stroke  of  genius  for  our  hostess 
to  send  me  in  with  Mrs.  Tref  usis,  then  separate  us  by 
the  whole  length  of  the  table  ?  It  was  like  a  reprieve 
at  the  moment  of  execution.  Now,  I  'm  not  going 
to  begin  by  asking  you  about  your  country,  because 
I  've  been  over  it  from  Canada  to  Mexico;  and  I 
spent  a  season  in  Central  America,  and  have  made  a 
little  run  into  South  America.  But  I  'm  going  to 
hope  you  are  pleased  with  ours.  I  know  you  have 
been  taking  observations,  for  I  've  watched  you  off 
and  on  ever  since  we  sat  down.  I  know  your  name 
too,  but  not  your  middle  initial.  Laurence  Oliphant 
once  told  me  that  to  get  to  know  Americans  to  their 
middle  initials  is  the  height  of  Yankee  intimacy." 

"  And  that  speech,  I  suppose,  is  what  you  and  Lau- 
rence Oliphant  would  call  the  height  of  British  po- 
liteness," she  said. 

"  There,  I  've  offended  you ;  I  knew  I  should.  I 
told  May,  coming  here,  that  I  'd  be  sure  to  throw  a 
stone  to  break  somebody's  windows  among  all  you 
Americans." 

"  Once  for  all,  if  we  are  to  do  nothing  but  fence 
about  England  and  America,  I  'd  rather  not  talk  to 
you." 

"Why?" 

"  It 's  stupid,  it 's  fruitless,  and,  besides,  it 's  out  of 
date." 


AN  ERKANT  WOOING  67 

"  Go  on.  I  like  this.  Lady  Edmund  says  you  illus- 
trate the  best  type  of  girl  in  your  society — that  you 
are  a  voice,  an  influence." 

"  An  influence  I  may  be,  but  a  voice  for  you  no 
longer,"  Polly  said,  the  color  coming  up  into  her  face, 
as  she  deliberately  turned  away  from  him,  irate  at  his 
cool  tone,  the  mocking  light  of  his  eyes. 

"  She  won't  listen  to  me,"  he  said,  with  pretended 
misery,  to  Lady  Edmund. 

"  Nobody  is  listened  to  nowadays,"  Lucy  answered. 
"  But  perhaps  you  did  not  show  her  sufficient  defer- 
ence. Miss  Standish  is  accustomed  to  it  at  home,  I 
can  tell  you.  But  I  must  n't  forget  to  say  that  we 
have  a  request  to  proffer  to  you,  to  lend  two  or  three 
of  your  Old  Cromes  to  the  exhibition  of  early  British 
artists  in  Bond  street  next  month.  My  husband 
thinks  it  a  pity  to  hide  such  treasures,  and  he  has  a 
man  who  will  see  that  they  are  cared  for  whilst  they 
are  in  town.  Of  course  it 's  for  you  to  say." 

"  Just  as  you  like.  I  have  n't  even  a  list  of  the 
pictures,"  he  said,  a  sudden  hardening  of  manner  no- 
ticeable. "  I  remember  I  'd  an  offer  for  that i  Mill  and 
Cart-horses '  by  Old  Crome,  once ;  but  though  I  was 
hard  up,  as  usual,  I  could  n't  consent  to  sell  that." 

"  You  paint,  yourself  ? " 

"  Not  to  set  the  world  afire.  To  amuse  myself,  I  Ve 
a  studio  in  my  house  in  Granada ;  and  I  make  sketches 
in  Morocco  every  spring." 

"  Mercy !  they  Ve  done  talking,  down  at  that  end  of 
the  table ;  and  Emily  Borges  is  looking  bored  out  of 
her  wits  because  I  don't  move,"  cried  Lucy,  making 
furtive  dives  in  her  lap  for  gloves  and  handkerchief. 

"  Before  you  go,  will  you  do  me  a  favor  ? "  he  said 


68  AN  EKEANT  WOOING 

in  a  low  voice.  "  I  have  told  May  that  you  will  show 
her  the — the  portrait  that  used  to  hang  over  the  door 
in  the  library.  It  is  nothing  but  a  shade  to  anybody 
now,  but  I  could  n't  bring  her  to  this  house  and  re- 
fuse her  request  to  see  it." 

"  I  understand/7  said  Lucy,  with  quick  tact,  hurry- 
ing away. 

When  the  ladies  passed  through  the  door,  held  open 
by  Paddy  Blount,  Mrs.  Standish  reclaimed  her  off- 
spring, who,  standing  there  in  his  dinner-jacket  and 
white  tie,  looked  altogether  too  grown  up  to  be 
allowed  further  privileges  of  manhood. 

Toodles,  after  silent  remonstrance,  submitted  to  be 
led  away,  and  at  the  drawing-room  door  was  captured 
by  Lucy,  who  told  him  to  take  Miss  Gilchrist  to  see 
the  aviary,  where  she  would  join  them  presently. 

"  I  '11  go  too,"  said  Paulina.  She  was  already  tired 
of  the  women,  to  whose  unrelieved  society  she  must 
otherwise  look  forward ;  and  she  felt  little  interest  in 
the  mind-reader,  Miss  Chester,  who,  arriving  late,  had 
dined  alone,  and  was  ready  for  her  seance. 

The  two  girls  and  Toodles  progressed  well  toward 
acquaintanceship,  Paulina  deciding  that  the  skim  of 
ice  over  May's  manner  was  the  result  of  entire  sim- 
plicity of  nature  rather  than  a  predisposition  to  resent 
advances.  In  the  soft  lingering  light,  they  walked 
back  and  forth  on  a  flagged  path  behind  the  house, 
listening  to  the  nightingales'  trill  in  the  thicket,  and 
talking,  till  Lady  Edmund  came  to  fulfil  her  promise 
to  Sir  Piers. 

"Will  you  come  with  me,  dear,  into  the  library?" 
she  said  to  May. 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  69 

"Oh,  am  I  to  see — to  see  her?"  exclaimed  the  girl, 
clasping  her  hands  like  a  young  religious  devotee,  and 
coloring  crimson. 

"  Come  too,  Polly,"  added  Lucy,  a  little  alarmed. 
"  It  is  this  one,"  she  went  on,  when  they  stopped  un- 
der the  lady  in  satin  court  costume.  With  all  her 
facility  in  words,  she  could  find  nothing  more  to  say. 

"  My  mother ! "  the  girl  cried,  stretching  her  arms 
upward  by  an  involuntary  movement  5  then,  drop- 
ping them  as  suddenly,  she  turned,  and  threw  her- 
self upon  Lucy's  breast,  sobbing,  "I  don't  think  she 
smiles  at  me." 

"Take  her  out  in  the  walk  a  little  while,  again, 
Polly  dear,"  said  Lucy,  much  troubled. 

"And  this  is  our  piece  of  still-life,"  meditated 
Lady  Edmund,  returning  to  her  guests.  "Oh!  good 
gracious!  To  think  that  woman  ever  held  the  poor 
thing  in  her  arms,  and  felt  what  I  feel  for  baby,  and 
then  left  her !  No  wonder  they  've  kept  her  a  secret 
from  her  child ! " 

Following  out  which  train  of  thought,  the  little 
mother  ran  up-stairs,  and  swooped  down  upon  her 
heir,  slumbering  in  his  crib,  for  an  act  of  adoration 
that  relieved  her  overburdened  heart. 


HEN  the  men  came  into  the  draw- 
ing-room after  dinner,  Mabel  Kirby 
and  her  new  annex,  Miss  Chester, 
the  mind-reader,  occupied,  in  the- 
atrical parlance,  the  center  of  the 
stage. 

Lord  Edmund,  who  was  much  interested  in  a  talk 
with  Roger  Woodbury  about  the  wonders  of  irriga- 
tion in  our  Western  desert  lands,  did  not  welcome 
being  ordered  by  his  wife  to  sit  down,  keep  silence, 
and  give  his  whole  mind  to  what  he  was  about  to  see. 
"The  women  are  all  daft  about  this  medium, 
Woodbury.  It  reminds  me  of  what  you  told  us  just 
now.  Lucy  dear,  have  you  heard  Woodbury's  story 
about  Brigham  Young  taking  a  lot  of  his  wives  to 
see  a  performance  of  the  '  Lady  of  Lyons '  at  the 
theater  in  Salt  Lake  City?  Capital  story,  I  '11 
swear." 

"  Tell  me  quick,"  said  Lucy,  pausing  in  her  work  of 
adjusting  the  audience. 

''Oh,  when  the  prophet  understood  the  plot  of  the 
play,  he  just  got  up  and  left,  saying  he  'd  be  blessed 
if  he  'd  stay  there  and  see  such  a  fuss  made  over  one 
woman." 

70 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  71 

"  For  shame,  Ted ! "  said  his  wife,  smiling,  though 
not  relenting  in  her  purpose;  and  the  host  dropped 
into  an  easy-chair,  stuck  his  legs  out  before  him,  and 
looked  frankly  miserable  until  the  seance  was  over. 

There  was  the  usual  blindfold  search  for  pins, 
rings,  and  cards,  hidden  by  some  one  in  the  room 
whilst  Miss  Chester  was  out  of  it ;  the  usual  passes 
from  side  to  side  of  the  medium's  arms  as  she  groped 
her  way  successfully  to  the  concealed  object;  the 
usual  applause ;  and  when  Miss  Chester,  looking  pale 
and  interesting,  dropped  into  her  chair  to  rest,  Mabel 
Kirby,  who  could  not  consent  to  be  long  left  out  of 
public  notice,  raised  her  voice: 

"I  hope  everybody  understands  that  I  have  no- 
thing at  all  to  do  with  Miss  Chester's  success,"  she 
said  affectedly. 

"Nobody  suspected  you  for  a  moment,"  observed 
Lady  Emily. 

"  When  there  is  another  medium  present,  I  make  it 
a  point  to  keep  my  intelligence  absolutely  in  check," 
she  went  on,  unabashed. 

"  How  admirably  you  succeed ! "  returned  her  foe. 

"  Now,  if  you  will  give  me  again  your  close  atten- 
tion," interposed  Miss  Chester's  soft,  weary  voice,  "  I 
will  ask  some  gentleman  present — you,  if  you  will 
be  so  kind" — stopping  before  Sir  Piers  Gilchrist, 
who  stood  behind  Paddy  Blount  and  open-eyed  Mas- 
ter Standish,  at  the  fireplace  — "  to  permit  me  to  read 
the  thoughts  that  are  now  passing  in  his  mind.  I  ask 
you  to  retain  those  thoughts ;  to  let  me  put  my  hands 
on  your  wrists  and  on  your  forehead.  I  will  then 
communicate  the  result  to  the  company,  or  to  any 


72 

friends  you  may  select.  I  should  like  to  tell  you  that 
you  are  entirely  unknown  to  me ;  that  I  arrived  here 
this  afternoon,  knowing  nobody  in  the  house.  Par- 
don me,  ladies  and  gentlemen;  I  see  some  of  you 
smiling.  If  you  are  not  serious,  I  can  do  nothing  — 
absolutely  nothing." 

There  was  intense  stillness  in  the  room.  Care- 
lessly, and  with  entire  incredulity,  Sir  Piers  dropped 
into  a  chair.  Carefully,  strainingly,  perspiration  com- 
ing out  on  her  broad  white  brow,  Miss  Chester  went 
through  the  promised  manipulations ;  then  sat,  cover- 
ing her  eyes  with  her  hands,  in  a  corner. 

"I  am  ready  now.  To  whom  shall  I  speak?"  she 
asked  in  an  unnatural  whisper. 

"To  Mr.  Cartwright  and  me,  I  think,"  said  Lucy, 
coming  forward ;  and  taking  her  by  the  hand,  she  led 
her,  with  Sir  Piers,  into  the  adjoining  room.  Lucy, 
with  everybody  else,  was  astonished  at  the  .change 
wrought  in  Gilehrist  by  what  Mr.  Cartwright  called 
"unmeaning  mummery."  He  looked  dazed,  broken, 
as  if  a  weight  had  been  rolled  upon  him.  May,  who 
just  then  came  in  at  the  door  with  Paulina,  ran  to- 
ward him,  asking  if  he  were  ill,  but  was  not  answered 
as  he  hastened  away. 

"Miss  Chester  begs  to  be  excused,"  said  Lady 
Edmund,  at  last  returning  with  the  lawyer.  "She 
has  done  enough  for  her  strength  to-night;  and  Mr. 
Cartwright  and  I  are  convinced  that  she  has  done 
too  much  for  some  of  the  rest  of  us.  Sir  Piers  has 
gone  with  the  butler  to  get  a  drop  of  brandy." 

"But  the  answer,  the  revelation?"  cried  several 
eager  voices. 


AN  EERANT  WOOING  73 

"  I  can  only  say  that,  for  the  hit-or-miss  guesswork 
of  an  anemic  and  hysteric  female,  it  was  the  cleverest 
thing  I  ever  heard,"  answered  Mr.  Cartwright. 

"Don't  ask  me.  It  was  wonderful — wonderful," 
said  Lucy,  quite  overcome. 

"And  we  are  to  have  nothing  more?"  said  Ama- 
ranth Clyde,  pouting;  "just  when  Lord  Barchester 
was  getting  himself  in  the  state  to  be  interpreted?" 

"  Are  n't  you  a  little  premature,  my  dear  girl  ? " 
said  Lady  Emily  in  her  ear.  "  Chi  va  piano,  va  sano, 
remember.  After  this,  Mabel  Kirby,  with  her  little 
cheap-Jack  tricks,  will  be  nowhere." 

"Paulina,  listen,"  said  Lady  Blount,  coming  into 
her  guest's  room,  in  her  dressing-gown,  that  night. 
"  The  strangest  part  of  Miss  Chester's  divination  was 
that  she  mentioned  you  in  connection  with  what  was 
passing  in  Sir  Piers's  mind.  Now,  you  know  she 
never  saw  or  heard  of  you.  Directly  after  dinner 
you  went  out  on  the  terrace.  But  she  described  you 
accurately." 

"  What  on  earth  could  he  have  been  thinking  about 
me?  That  I  thought  him  very  saucy  and  tiresome, 
I  hope." 

"  She  did  not  quite  grasp  your  connection  with  his 
thoughts,  and  Sir  Piers  would  not  help  her.  Of 
course,  as  everybody  must  have  guessed,  she  told 
him  he  was  thinking  about  his  wife,  and  their  first 
arrival  in  that  room  after  their  marriage  —  things 
that  could  not  have  been  at  all  pleasant  for  him  to 
have  Mr.  Cartwright  and  me  hear." 

"Lucy,  it  is  absurd  your  looking  so  awe-stricken. 
Go  to  bed ;  let  Sir  Piers  and  the  seeress,  who,  I  am 


74  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

happy  to  hear,  returns  to  town  by  the  9:30  to-mor- 
row, manage  their  own  mysteries.  They  can't  con- 
cern me,  and  I  'm  awfully  sleepy.  Unless  Sir  Piers 
keeps  an  ancestral  ghost  in  the  arras  of  this  dear  lit- 
tle white  room  you  've  given  me,  I  expect  never  to 
think  of  him  again." 

"ANOTHER  fine  day,  miss,"  said  her  mother's 
maid,  who  brought  Paulina's  letters  and  a  cup  of  tea 
betimes  next  morning  to  her  bedside.  Declining  the 
tea,  and  glancing  hastily  at  the  correspondence,  Miss 
Standish  enjoyed  her  tub  and  her  toilet,  as  a  right- 
minded  person  does  who  has  slept  the  sleep  of  per- 
fect health. 

Glimpses  from  the  window  at  park  and  gardens 
made  her  quicken  her  movements  in  the  desire  to  get 
out  into  the  beautiful  green  world.  In  the  dining- 
room  a  few  people  were  having  what  Mrs.  Standish 
called  a  "hugger-mugger"  breakfast  —  jumping  up 
with  their  plates  to  carve  for  themselves  slices  of 
cold  ham  or  lamb  on  the  side  table ;  diving  down  to 
the  covered  dishes  before  the  fire  to  secure  hot  kid- 
neys, fish,  or  bacon;  and  laying  hold,  across  the 
table,  of  eggs,  butter,  scones,  and  marmalade. 

"I  '11  declare,"  said  Mrs.  Standish  to  herself,  "I 
think  it  would  be  nicer  to  sit  still  and  have  servants 
to  wait,  as  we  do.  This  is  like  eating  in  a  gale  of 
wind." 

"  You  see,  my  wife  has  taught  us  your  American 
way  of  beginning  with  hominy  porridge  —  or  grits  — 
how  do  you  call  them  f  Only  we  have  n't  quite  the 
hang  of  cooking  it,"  said  Lord  Edmund,  coming  back 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  75 

with  her  plate,  with  which  he  had  been  careering 
about  the  room  in  search  of  provand. 

"  Ted,  toss  me  a  scone,"  cried  Lady  Emily,  who  sat, 
in  her  habit,  on  the  other  side  of  the  table. 

"All  right.  Catch,"  said  Lord  Edmund,  briefly; 
and  to  Mrs.  Standish's  horror,  the  desired  dainty  was 
neatly  sent  sailing  through  the  air,  to  land  in  Lady 
Emily's  bread-and-butter  plate. 

"Well  played!"  exclaimed  Toodles,  with  irresisti- 
ble satisfaction. 

"  And  to  think,  Polly,"  the  lad  said,  when  he  went 
out  on  the  flagged  walk  with  his  sister  to  await  Lord 
Edmund  and  Lord  Patrick,  who  were  to  show  Pau- 
lina the  pheasants,  "how  awfully  well  we  have  to 
behave  when  they  come  to  see  us !  But,  you  know,  I 
think  these  English  fellows  are  the  nicest  men  I  ever 
saw,  except  Roger.  They  are  so  kind  and  jolly,  and 
they  have  such  pleasant  voices.  Did  I  tell  you 
Pa'ddy  Blount  says  he  '11  stop  in  New  York  and  see 
us,  if  we  want  him,  when  he  goes  out  to  the  ranch  ? 
Of  course  we  want  him.  He  says  he  's  nearly  stone- 
broke,  and  his  governor  won't  stand  any  more,  and 
Ted  's  going  to  give  him  the  cash  to  get  to  the  States 
upon.  And  Paddy — " 

"  Do  you  call  him  that,  Toodles  ? " 

"Oh,  of  course  —  he  made  me,  first  thing.  Every- 
body does.  He  told  me  about  Eton  and  Oxford  and 
about  a  master  he  had  when  he  was  my  size  that 
flogged  him,  but  of  course  he  did  n't  '  blub ' ;  and  he 
calls  a  sling-shot  a  ' catapult';  and  he  thinks  North 
and  South  America  are  the  same,  I  believe.  He 
don't  know  much,  that  's  certain,  except  ridin'  and 


76  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

shootin'  and  huntin' ;  but  I  think  Paddy  's  bully,  all 
the  same.  Here  he  comes.  We  '11  go  ahead,  and 
you  can  walk  along  after,  with  Lord  Edmund." 

In  a  wood  near  the  head  keeper's  cottage  they 
found  an  array  of  boxes  containing  the  setting  phea- 
sants, many  of  them  so  tamed  by  petting  from  the 
keeper's  children  as  to  peck  food  from  the  visitor's 
hand. 

"They  '11  be  wild  enough  when  the  young  ones 
get  out  into  the  woods,"  said  Lord  Edmund.  "Be- 
fore the  shooting-season  sets  in  they  are  practically 
wild  birds." 

"All  the  same,  it  seems  to  me  very  inglorious 
sport,"  ventured  Polly.  "Oh!  I  beg  your  pardon; 
I  '11  never  say  that  again." 

"  If  you  '11  come  to  us  then,  you  '11  see  whether  it 's 
inglorious,"  returned  the  proprietor,  good-humoredly. 
"  Now,  if  you  '11  allow  me,  as  I  Ve  an  appointment 
with  Sir  Piers  at  10:30,  I  '11  stroll  with  you  through 
what  we  call  the  '  Pheasants'  Walk,'  and  we  '11  let  my 
wife  drive  around  and  pick  you  up  at  the  dower- 
house,  as  she  tells  me  she  's  promised  to  take  Miss 
Gilchrist  on  your  drive." 

Paulina  thought  she  liked  all  better  than  the  sug- 
gestion of  another  encounter  with  Sir  Piers. 

They  met  him,  however,  coming  toward  them  in  the 
Pheasants'  Walk.  This  was  a  long  arcade  of  moist 
greenery,  mossy  underfoot,  with  a  fringe  of  prim- 
roses on  either  side,  and  periwinkles,  purple  and 
white,  overrunning  the  hollows  of  the  wood,  in  which 
pheasants  sought  retreat,  and  rabbits  scudded  with 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  77 

tails  erect,  at  the  approach  of  a  human  footstep.  In 
the  boughs  that  met  overhead  a  congregation  of  birds 
made  delicious  melody.  Thrushes,  chaffinches,  black- 
caps, nightingales,  and  many  another,  had  here  each 
his  time  for  song.  In  this  tunnel  of  verdure  and 
sweet  sound,  where  the  sunshine  fell  intermittently, 
the  advancing  figure  of  the  owner  of  "Wooton  Magna, 
dressed  in  rough  tweeds,  with  knickerbockers,  wear- 
ing a  billycock  hat  and  swinging  a  thorn  stick, 
seemed  to  have  found  its  proper  setting.  As  he  took 
off  his  hat,  and  stood  bareheaded  to  talk  with  them, 
Paulina  was  struck  with  a  sense  of  the  extraordinary 
freshness  of  his  beauty  and  the  manliness  of  his  bear- 
ing. Of  the  bitter  experience  of  his  past  life,  his 
wandering  from  home,  his  poverty,  the  fact  that  he 
was  now  tramping,  as  a  visitor  only,  over  the  acres  of 
his  own  patrimony,  no  trace  was  apparent  on  the  fair, 
frank  face,  in  the  keen  blue  eyes.  To  encounter  a 
man  like  this,  Polly  felt,  was  an  exceptional  experi- 
ence; and,  so  feeling,  she  grew  angry  with  herself, 
and  turned  away  her  gaze. 

"  I  was  on  my  way  to  you,"  he  said  to  Lord  Ed- 
mund; "but  since  you  are  so  near  the  dower-house, 
we  '11  go  on  there." 

As  Paulina  with  compressed  lips  stalked  ahead  with 
Toodles  and  Paddy  Blount,  she  indulged  in  a  mental 
overhauling  of  her  own  contemptible  weakness. 

"  There  is  something  out  of  joint — why  should  I 
have  had  that  throb  of  pleasure  when  I  looked  at  an 
Englishman?  Why  should  I  even  sympathize  with 
one  ?  Granted  he  is  handsome,  debonair ;  is  that  an 


78  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

excuse  for  my  deplorable  lapse  from  dignity?  I  "be- 
lieve it  is  nothing  but  the  influence  of  this  enchanting 
old  wood,  and  the  sooner  I  get  out  of  it  the  better." 

She  quickened  her  pace,  to  be  joined,  almost  im- 
mediately, by  the  object  of  her  thoughts. 

"  Blount  has  gone  back/'  he  remarked  carelessly. 
"  He  has  deputed  me  to  see  you  safe  into  Lady  Ed- 
mund's hands." 

"  Then  I  '11  just  take  the  youngster  across  by  the 
spinney,"  said  Patrick.  "  It 's  a  roughish  walk  for  a 
lady,  and  there  's  the  bull  in  the  pasture  that  might 
give  us  a  run." 

"  No,  Polly ;  you  can't  possibly  come,"  added  Too- 
dles,  with  authority,  answering  the  appeal  of  his 
sister's  eye. 

"  You  are  basely  deserted,  are  n't  you  ? "  said  Gil- 
christ,  laughing  at  her  evident  dismay  on  being  left 
alone  with  him.  "  This  affords  me  an  opportunity  I 
needed,  to  tell  you  that  I  am  sorry  I  gave  you  offense 
last  night.  Pity  a  wanderer  who  has  lived  so  long 
out  of  conventional  society  that  he  forgets  what  is  due 
to  the  conventional  young  lady." 

"  But  I  am  not  a  conventional  young  lady ;  at  least, 
not  if  that  was  conventional  society." 

"  I  saw  something  was  worrying  you.  Will  you  let 
me  thank  you  for  being  nice  to  May  ?  As  we  drove 
home  she  could  talk  of  nothing  but  your  graciousness 
and  your  charms.  I  see  how  good  for  her  is  a  com- 
panionship like  yours.  I  don't  need  to  tell  you  that  I 
dreaded  her  first  visit  to  the  Hall.  It  seemed  best  for 
her  to  go,  as  she  did,  when  there  were  others  present 
—  and  of  course  she  had  not  the  goad  of  old  associa- 


AN  EEEANT  WOOING  79 

tion  to  overcome.  You  wonder  why  I  talk  to  you  like 
this.  In  two  words,  because  I  am  grateful.  Even 
gipsies  do  not  forget  benefits  conferred." 

Grave,  simple,  courteous,  this  was  quite  another 
man  from  the  mocker  of  the  night  before.  She  an- 
swered him  as  simply,  as  cordially ;  and  from  a  dis- 
cussion of  May  they  passed  to  many  themes  of  in- 
terest to  her.  In  addicting  himself  to  the  task  of 
removing  a  first  bad  impression,  Sir  Piers  found  metal 
more  attractive  than  he  knew.  His  observations,  be- 
gun at  first  sight  of  her,  were  more  than  confirmed  in 
his  leisurely  survey.  He  thought  he  had  never  met 
such  a  wild  virginal  spirit  so  charmingly  embodied 
as  this.  So  eager  were  they  when  touched  by  a  real 
interest,  he  could  see  the  flame  of  the  spirit  shooting 
up  in  her  brilliant  hazel  eyes.  Her  ease  of  speech 
and  gesture,  her  wit  and  indifference  to  the  effect  of 
words,  might,  in  another  girl,  have  seemed  reckless 
abandonment.  But  he,  who  had  known  women  in  all 
lands,  was  quick  to  read  the  true  character  of  this 
young  American,  so  ready  to  break  lances  with  him. 
Excepting  May,  who  was  still  a  child,  he  thought 
Paulina  the  most  innocent  creature  he  had  ever 
encountered. 

In  all  her  outward  seeming  Miss  Standish  pleased 
Sir  Piers.  Her  figure  was  slight  and  elegant;  her 
hands  and  feet  were  small,  her  movements  impetu- 
ous and  not  to  be  counted  upon  a  moment  in  ad- 
vance; her  clear-cut  lips  were  wont  to  break  into 
charming  smiles,  to  dissolve  the  little  frown  often 
gathered  on  her  straight,  dark  brows.  The  one  thing 
apparently  lacking  was  that  touch  of  tenderness  es- 


80  AN  EERANT  WOOING 

sential  in  man's  eyes  as  the  crowning  charm  of  wo- 
men. But,  again,  what  of  her  kindness  to  his  May? 

"  Oh,  how  happy  I  am  here  in  this  wood !  It  is  like 
walking  in  a  fairy-tale.  If  I  were  only  clever  enough 
to  make  a  sketch  that  would  suggest  it  to  me  when 
I  get  back  to  the  prosaic  places  of  the  world ! " 

"  If  I  dared,  I  should  offer  you  one  I  made  the 
other  day." 

"  I  hope  you  won't  test  me  by  offering,  and  expect- 
ing me  to  refuse  it,"  she  said,  smiling.  "  But  no  one 
could  picture  this  light  and  shadow,  the  wavering 
wind-flowers  in  the  hollows,  the  color,  the  fragrance 
of  it  all  —  and  the  thrill  of  these  songs  overhead." 

"  No ;  I  felt  my  incapacity  when  I  attempted  it.  I 
am  glad  to  hear  you  like  this  spot ;  when  I  think  of 
my  home  it  comes  almost  first.  I  used  to  play  here 
by  the  hour  in  my  solitary  boyhood." 

"  There  is  a  dead  thrush ! "  she  exclaimed,  stooping 
to  pick  up  an  object  from  the  path,  and  caressing  it 
with  the  tip  of  her  gloved  finger.  "  To  think,  to  think, 
he  has  sung  out  his  brief  day  in  this  lovely  place,  and 
must  go  out  of  it,  and  give  place  to  others ! " 

"  I  am  sure  I  understand  that  better  than  another," 
he  answered,  with  a  clouded  brow. 

"How  stupid!  How  unfeeling  I  am!  Will  you 
please  forgive  me?" 

"Never  mind,"  he  said,  a  smile  dissipating  his 
momentary  depression.  "  I  'm  past  being  sensitive. 
The  rent  Blount  pays  for  Wooton  Magna  enables  me 
to  live  like  a  grandee  in  Granada;  and  among  my 
shepherds  in  the  Pyrenees  I  am  a  king.  Now  your 
eyes  have  a  filmy  look,  as  though  you  were  about  to 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  81 

divide  your  tears  between  me  and  the  thrush.  Pray 
don't.  Consider  how  deadly  dull  it  would  be  for  me 
to  live  here  alone,  and  have  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Trefusis 
to  dinner  once  a  week." 

"But  your  people  —  your  duties  —  your  politics, 
of  which  all  you  English  think  so  much.  Ought  not 
you  to  live  at  home  for  them  ? " 

"So,  my  dear  young  lady,  you  are  kindly  volun- 
teering to  act  as  my  conscience.  What  could  I  ac- 
complish without  funds!" 

"In  our  country  you  'd  go  to  work  and  make 
them." 

"  But  in  our  country  I  can't ;  and  I  'm  like  many  in 
the  same  box.  I  always  notice  Americans  vaunting 
themselves  upon  the  hard  work  they  do  to  amass 
cash,  and  looking  down  on  the  other  people  in  the 
world  who  are  content  to  live  upon  what  they  already 
have.  What  a  tremendously  electrical  atmosphere  it 
must  be  over  there,  where  even  the  babes  and  suck- 
lings and  pretty  girls  rise  up  and  adjure  a  man  to 
practise  all  the  things  most  disagreeable  to  him,  in 
order  to  lay  up  a  few  more  dollars  in  the  year ! " 

"Now  you  are  making  fun  of  me." 

"  Never !     I  swear  it,"  he  said  dramatically. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  are.  And  I  wish  you  would  walk 
faster.  I  think  we  have  been  a  long  time  in  this 
wood." 

"No,  no.  I  am  not  going  to  let  you  go  without 
telling  you  that  I  'm  not  always  chaffing  at  the  things 
you  spoke  about.  Since  I  Ve  been  here  this  time,  es- 
pecially, and  found  May  capable  of  being  a  compan- 
ion to  me ;  since  I  went  to  the  Hall  last  night,  and 


82  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

saw  what  it  is,  under  a  sweet,  kind  woman's  manage- 
ment —  I  Ve  felt  it  is  going  to  be  a  tug  to  give  old 
England  up,  as  I  've  never  felt  it  before.  But  you 
would  n't  have  me  whining  over  what  cannot  be 
remedied,  would  you  f  No.  May  will  marry,  I  hope. 
I  believe  Aunty  Watson-Jones  has  promised  my  girl 
her  savings,  so  she  won't  always  feel  the  pinch  of 
iinpecuniosity.  Some  day  she  may  come  to  the  Hall 
to  live,  and  her  little  chaps  will  play  in  the  Pheasants' 
Walk,  and  talk  of  their  grandfather  who  died  in 
Spain  —  grandfather !  by  Jove ! "  he  added,  stopping 
short  to  contemplate  the  unwelcome  apparition  he 
had  conjured  up." 


VI 

HAT  were  you  two  doing?"  asked 
Lady  Edmund  when  the.  derelict  pair 
emerged  at  last  from  the  wood  that 
had  held  them  enthralled. 

She  was  sitting  with  May  in  an 
open  carriage  in  front  of  the  dower- 
house,  a  gray  thatch-roofed  building  half  buried  in 
the  foliage  of  two  ancient  willows,  the  sole  bit  of 
relief  from  surrounding  green,  the  pink  purple  of  the 
rhododendrons  growing  up  almost  under  the  windows 
—  a  sad,  half -ruined  spot,  that  smote  the  heart  with  a 
sense  of  desolation. 

At  the  feet  of  the  ladies  were  guns  and  shot-bags, 
while  Toodles  and  Paddy  Blount  stalked  about  with 
every  indication  of  masculine  impatience. 

"Polly,  we  have  been  waiting  more  than  half  an 
hour,"  cried  Toodles,  splenetically. 

"  Miss  Standish  has  been  approving  of  the  Pheas- 
ants' "Walk,"  said  Sir  Piers. 

"Come,  jump  in,  Polly,"  snapped  Lady  Edmund. 
"  And,  to  show  that  I  forgive  you,  Sir  Piers,  when 
we  Ve  deposited  our  sportsmen,  let  us  call  for  you  to 
drive  home  with  us  to  luncheon." 

"  Thanks,  but  since  you  are  taking  May,  if  I  don't 

83 


84  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

stop  here  to  eat  the  strawberries  I  see  you  have  left 
like  fairy  tokens  on  my  doorstep,  who  will  I  Let  me 
have  May  in  time  for  our  so-called  dinner,  please. 
Good-by." 

As  they  drove  away,  Paulina,  determining  not  to 
look  back,  did  so.  He  was  standing  alone  at  the 
portal  of  the  old  ruined  house,  and  as  he  caught  her 
glance  lifted  his  hat. 

"  I  know  why  he  interests  me,"  she  thought,  with  a 
sudden  illumining.  "He  is  so  entirely  picturesque. 
He  is  no  drawing-room  hero.  He  seems  to  have  al- 
ways lived  in  the  open  air.  He  brings  a  breath  of 
nature,  of  travel,  of  originality,  into  all  he  says.  And 
I  like  his  quiet  way  of  taking  ill  fortune.  If  I  mis- 
take not,  that  man  could  never  be  mean,  or  jealous, 
or  false,  or  cruel,  or  egotistic.  Never,  never ! " 

After  Polly  had  adjusted  herself  with  her  usual 
facility  to  this  lightning-like  change  of  base,  she  pro- 
ceeded to  enjoy  the  scene  and  the  pleasant  company. 
After  a  five  miles'  drive  through  a  tranquil  country- 
side, the  carriage  pulled  up  at  the  entrance  of  a  field 
where  a  keeper  and  a  boy  in  smart  velveteens  awaited 
the  sportsmen  to  conduct  them  to  the  rookery. 

"You  have  your  luncheon?"  asked  Lucy.  "Yes; 
that  's  right.  Now  clear  out  your  belongings  from 
under  our  feet,  and  let  us  go.  I  mean  to  drive 
around  by  a  longer  way  home.  Good  luck  to  you, 
and  good-by." 

"  I  'd  like  to  see  myself  going  out  at  home  with  all 
these  contraptions  and  two  keepers,  to  shoot  crows," 
Toodles  managed  to  whisper  to  his  sister,  then 
marched  off  in  a  shooting- jacket  and  gaiters  lent  by 
Lord  Edmund,  in  which  he  resembled  Puss-in-Boots. 


AN  EKRANT  WOOING  85 

On  the  "way  around"  proposed  by  Lucy,  it  be- 
came evident  a  new  variety  of  weather  was  at  hand. 
Over  the  hitherto  dazzlingly  blue  sky  a  curious  cloud 
was  forming. 

"  I  should  n't  wonder  if  we  were  to  be  caught  in  a 
storm,"  said  Lucy,  ordering  her  coachman  to  quicken 
speed. 

They  had  come  to  where  the  road,  running  be- 
tween high  banks  covered  with  ivy  netting,  violets, 
and  cowslips,  was  topped  with  hedges  of  hawthorn, 
whose  polished  green  foliage  hid  from  sight  branches 
welded  like  the  ironwork  of  the  old  smiths  of  Nu- 
remberg. At  intervals  in  these  verdant  barricades 
arose  holly-trees  globular  in  shape  and  lustrous  in 
the  intense  light  of  the  sun  coming  from  under  the 
edges  of  the  cloud. 

In  the  narrow  sunken  way  thus  formed,  from 
which  there  was  escape  on  neither  side,  they  met  an 
oncoming  flock  of  sheep  and  lambs  herded  by  two 
collie  dogs  in  charge  of  a  moon-faced  rustic  in  a 
smock-frock.  Nothing  for  it  but  to  pull  up,  the 
horses  standing  stock-still  on  the  verge  of  the  sea 
of  yellowish- white,  foolish,  struggling  creatures,  who 
had  parted  with  the  little  wits  they  once  possessed. 
Now  came  into  play  the  professional  skill  of  the  col- 
lies, who  abandoned  themselves  to  an  agony  of  so- 
licitude lest  the  affair  should  in  some  way  do  them 
discredit  and  miscarry.  Hither  and  thither,  bark- 
ing imperiously,  they  darted,  through  gaps  where 
it  would  seem  impossible  to  penetrate,  to  the  outer 
edges  of  the  woolly  mass,  remonstrating,  coaxing,  in- 
sisting, till  the  last  dullard  was  made  to  understand 
the  necessity  of  single  file  on  either  side  of  the  car- 


86  AN  EKRANT  WOOING 

riage,  and  the  last  lambkin  was  conveyed  in  safety 
past  the  horses  and  wheels. 

"  A  pretty  sight,  and  pure  English/7  Polly  said,  for 
the  first  time  wishing  that  Roger  had  been  of  their 
party,  and  at  once  reproaching  herself  for  the  tardi- 
ness of  this  impulse. 

"Drive  as  fast  as  you  can!"  cried  Lady  Edmund 
to  her  man.  For,  drifting  rapidly  across  the  sky 
came  the  strange  blue-black  cloud,  now  shaped  like 
a  bottle  with  a  long,  slender  neck. 

In  wood  and  field,  and  among  the  animals  in  pas- 
ture, there  was  a  movement  of  panic  at  the  ap- 
proaching storm.  The  wind  got  up,  and  went  moan- 
ing. In  the  farm-houses  they  passed,  people  were 
making  preparations  to  meet  they  knew  not  what, 
but  something  a  little  out  of  the  way. 

All  at  once  the  cloud  burst,  and  emptied  itself  of 
hailstones  like  bullets,  that  in  a  short  time  covered 
with  a  white  mantle  the  women  huddling  under  the 
fur  robes  of  the  open  carriage.  The  coachman, 
whipped  in  the  face,  could  see  little,  but  held  on 
stoutly  to  the  reins  (it  would  have  been  difficult  for 
Horlock  to  do  anything  that  was  not  stout),  and, 
with  cheeks  like  winter  apples,  soothed  and  con- 
trolled the  frightened  horses  until  they  became  ac- 
customed to  the  sting  of  the  hailstones. 

"  Best  take  short  cut  to  the  dower-house,  my  lady," 
suggested  he  at  a  place  where  four  roads  met;  and 
at  the  dower-house  they  finally  pulled  up,  after  a 
thirty  minutes'  drive  exposed  to  the  unrelenting  fury 
of  the  downfall.  There,  laughing  and  rosy,  with 
spirits  strung  to  high  pitch,  the  three  were  extracted 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  87 

by  Sir  Piers  from  under  their  thatch  of  ice-covered 
fur,  and  brought  in  to  the  fire  to  thaw. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  go  home,"  said  Lucy,  when 
their  tale  of  adventure  was  told.  "  They  won't  wait, 
however.  Our  butler  would  announce  luncheon  in 
exactly  the  same  way  if  he  came  in  and  found  Ted 
had  just  cut  my  throat.  And  Emily  Borges  would 
call  for  those  grilled  bones  if  she  had  just  had  a 
telegram  saying  the  baron  had  quitted  this  mundane 
sphere.  But  I  really  must  get  on,  and  send  Horlock 
back  for  our  poor  rook-shooters,  since  it  shows  no 
sign  of  clearing  up." 

"I  have  an  inspiration.  Stay  to  lunch  with  me," 
said  Sir  Piers.  "  Now,  May,  don't  look  pathetic,  my 
dear  girl ;  I  know  the  resources  of  the  dower-house. 
There  are  eggs,  and  cold  meat,  and  beer,  and  Lady 
Edmund's  strawberries;  and  old  Clichett  is  keen  at 
making  scones.  And  I  'm  sure  there  is  marmalade." 

"  It 's  only  that  it  would  frighten  poor  Clichett  to 
death,  Piers,"  replied  his  daughter,  "if  she  thought 
she  had  to  lay  the  cloth  for  Lady  Edmund." 

"  Don't  let  her  lay  the  cloth,"  cried  Lucy,  throwing 
away  her  toque  in  an  ecstasy ;  "  we  '11  do  it  ourselves. 
We  '11  do  everything  except  the  scones.  Tell  her  to 
make  lots,  May ;  and  to  put  in  plenty  of  butter  when 
she  splits  them.  Oh,  Sir  Piers,  is  this  the  dining- 
table  ?  And  where  do  you  keep  your  cloth  ? " 

"  If  you  are  not  afraid  of  a  little  onion,  I  know  a 
capital  dish  of  eggs  such  as  we  make  in  bivouac  in 
the  Basque  country.  And  in  coffee  I  consider  myself 
unsurpassed." 

"  Coffee,  by  all  means,  and  Basque  eggs ;  only  be 


88  AN  EERANT  WOOING 

saving  with  the  onion,"  said  her  animated  ladyship, 
by  whom,  Paulina  and  May  serving  as  lieutenants, 
the  machinery  of  the  midday  meal  was  set  into  prompt 
motion. 

Wearing  aprons  borrowed  from  May's  helpless  and 
scandalized  maid,  the  trio  invaded  the  kitchen,  de- 
priving old  Mrs.  Clichett  of  breath,  but  furnishing  her 
with  material  for  gossip  to  last  the  remainder  of  her 
days.  Into  this  gay  assemblage  presently  arrived  the 
storm-beaten  Patrick  and  Toodles,  who,  warned  of  its 
futility  by  the  keepers,  had  abandoned  their  pursuit 
of  the  rooks,  and  were  well  on  the  way  home  when 
met  by  Horlock. 

"  Run,  Paddy  dear  •  tell  Horlock  to  go  back  to  the 
Hall  and  say  I  Ve  taken  a  situation  as  cook  here, 
and  Ted  need  n't  bother  about  me  any  more ;  but  he 
may  give  my  love  to  baby,"  exclaimed  Lady  Edmund, 
who,  with  the  exception  of  a  smudge  across  her  nose, 
had  come  very  well  through  her  ordeal  of  manual 
labor.  "And  if  they  like, — but  we  don't  urge  it, — 
Ted  and  Roger  may  come  over  and  fetch  us  home  by 
and  by." 

"  This  is  first-class !  "  remarked  Toodles,  who  had 
been  put  to  mixing  a  salad  dressing.  "How  good 
that  Spanish  dish  smells  already !  Miss  Gilchrist, 
don't  you  wish  we  could  do  this  every  day,  instead  of 
having  everything  so  stiff?  It  is  like  life  on  Roger's 
ranch.  Roger  is  my  cousin — Mr.  Woodbury." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  answered  May,  who  was  scraping 
radishes  at  the  window-ledge  by  him. 

"  He  is  Al,  and  no  mistake." 

"A — I  beg  your  pardon ? "  asked  she. 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  89 

"That  means  fine — smooth;  do  you  understand?" 

"  I  think  you  mean  he  is  the  best." 

"Yes,  the  best;  the  only  trouble  with  Roger  is 
Polly,  don't  you  see." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  don't." 

"  He  's  got  to  marry  her,  and  she  's  got  to  marry 
him,  and  it 's  all  been  settled  by  grandpapa,  and 
they  '11  have  ever  so  much  money,  and  live  in  the 
town  house,  and  be  stupid  like  anybody  else ;  and  I  '11 
never  get  to  the  ranch,  though  my  mother  promises 
me  every  year  I  shall." 

"  They  are  to  marry  ?  "  she  said,  looking  at  him  in- 
tently. "Are  you  sure  you  should  have  told  me 
this?" 

"  Why  not  ?  I  've  heard  people  talk  of  it,  all  about 
at  home.  But  they  are  a  funny  kind  of  lovers.  Oh, 
I  just  wish  he  had  the  sand  to  tell  her  he  won't  have 
her,  and  then  grandpapa  would  have  to  give  it  up." 

"  Please,"  she  said,  blushing,  "  I  am  quite  sure  you 
should  n't." 

"All  right,"  said  Toodles,  looking  out  of  the  win- 
dow, which  commanded  the  approach  to  the  house. 

"  If  there  are  not  Roger  and  Lucy's  husband  com- 
ing through  the  rain  and  wind  as  if  they  had  on 
seven-league  boots ! " 

"  There  won't  be  enough  to  eat  for  all,"  cried  Lucy, 
when  the  new  arrivals  had  swelled  their  group,  and 
laughter  and  explanations  made  the  dim  old  kitchen 
ring  as  it  had  not  in  many  a  long  year.  "  The  only 
thing  I  see  is  for  somebody  to  cook  bacon." 

"  I  volunteer,"  said  Roger,  throwing  off  his  wet  coat, 
and  washing  his  hands  under  the  tap.  "  That  is  my 


90  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

special  accomplishment.  Billy  says  that  whenever  he 
asks,  '  What  shall  it  be  for  dinner,  old  fellow  ? '  I  say, 
'  Ham  and  eggs.' " 

"  Tell  them  your  story  about  the  cow-boy,"  cried 
Toodles  to  Roger. 

"  By  all  means,"  chimed  in  Sir  Piers. 

"  You  know  I  never  weary  of  the  chronique  of  cow- 
boys," said  Lucy,  on  being  consulted. 

"Very  well,  then,"  said  Roger,  preparing  his  iron 
pan,  while  Toodles  cut  the  bacon.  "  This  relates  to  a 
gentleman  who,  having  made  his  pile,  journeyed  east- 
ward to  spend  it.  Arrived  at  Chicago,  en  route,  he 
went  into  a  restaurant,  and,  calling  for  the  bill  of  fare, 
studied  it  from  end  to  end,  then  cast  it  away  in  de- 
spair and,  in  a  large,  confident  manner,  as  one  certain 
that  cost  and  splendor  could  no  further  go,  observed, 
'  Gosh  darn  it,  waiter,  just  you  bring  me  fifteen  dol- 
lars' wuth  o'  ham  an'  eggs ! ' " 

"I  don't  know  when  I  have  taken  such  a  strong 
liking  as  to  your  cousin,"  Gilchrist  observed  to  Pau- 
lina at  a  pause  in  their  merry  meal.  "I  hope  you 
have  a  great  many  more  like  him  in  America." 

"  Like  Roger  ?  Oh,  no ;  there  is  no  one,"  she  said, 
and  then,  seeing  Lucy's  laughing  eye  fixed  upon  her, 
blushed  furiously. 

"  Lady  Edmund  was  just  about  to  tell  me  what  she 
called  'the  romance'  of  his  position,  when  we  were 
interrupted  last  night,"  he  went  on. 

"  She  told  you  nothing  ? " 

"No." 

"  And  you  know  nothing  ?  " 

"  Is  it  indiscreet  to  ask  you,  his  cousin,  almost  his 
sister,  to  enlighten  me  ?  " 


AN  EREANT  WOOING  91 

"  Not  now.    I  can 't  speak  of  it  now." 

"  When  we  meet  again,  then.  But,  now  that  I  think 
of  it,  when  shall  we  meet  again  ?  " 

"  You  are  going  ? " 

"Yes;  to-morrow." 

"I  had  forgotten,"  she  said,  almost  stammering 
with  the  surprise  of  finding  the  announcement  caused 
her  pain. 

"  To-morrow ;  and  I  leave  England  two  days  later. 
When  I  come  back  to  this  old  tumble-down  house, 
with  its  meager  furniture  and  bare  walls,  don't  think 
I  shall  not  see  you  in  it.  It  has  been  such  a  sunburst 
in  my  life  and  May's,  this  day  with  you  and  your 
agreeable  compatriot.  And  I  shall  never  see  the 
Pheasants'  Walk  again  without  the  figure  of  a  girl 
in  a  Bond-street  frock  and  hat,  holding  a  dead  thrush 
in  her  hand.  But  then,  who  knows  whether  we  may 
not  meet  again  ? " 

"  Sir  Piers,  Sir  Piers,"  cried  Lucy,  "  what  are  you 
saying  to  make  my  girl  so  sober  ?  Do  you  hear  Ted 
telh'ng  you  that  after  you  Ve  saved  us  from  freezing 
and  starving  to-day,  he  '11  never  forgive  you  if  you 
don't  bring  May  to  dinner  this  last  evening  before 
you  go?" 

"I  shall  be  most  happy,"  said  Gilchrist,  smiling; 
then,  turning  again  to  Paulina,  added :  "  What  did  I 
tell  you  ?  We  are  to  meet  again." 

"  Am  I  so  glad  as  that  ?  What  in  the  world  made 
my  heart  jump1?"  Polly  queried  of  herself  while 
they  were  driving  back  to  Wooton  Magna  in  the 
wagonette. 

"You  are  none  the  worse  for  your  hail-storm,  dear  ?  " 
asked  Roger,  leaning  toward  her,  and  observing  an 


92  AN  EKRANT  WOOING 

expression  he  could  not  fathom  in  her  transparent 
face. 

Toodles  and  Paddy  were  talking.  Lucy,  nestled  up 
to  her  husband,  was  making  the  most  barefaced  love 
to  him.  No  one  noticed  Roger  as  he  took  Paulina's 
little,  cold,  ungloved  hand  in  his. 

"  Don't,  please,"  she  said,  drawing  it  away.  "  I  am 
well ;  I  was  never  better ;  I  love  to  be  caught  out  in 
storms,  as  you  very  well  know."  And  putting  her 
hands  in  her  pockets,  in  default  of  the  gloves  ruined 
in  the  storm,  she  summoned  Lucy  into  the  conversa- 
tion, which  again  became  general,  and  so  remained 
until  they  arrived  at  the  doorway  of  Wooton  Magna. 

That  evening,  in  dressing  for  dinner,  Paulina  saw 
her  face  in  the  mirror  with  still  another  start  of  sur- 
prise. She  remonstrated  with  it,  rebuked  it  with 
passionate  humility,  owned  herself  a  goose;  but  a 
smile,  that  would  not  be  banished,  played  around 
her  lips  when  she  thought  she  would  soon  again  be 
near  the  man  whom  she  had  seen  for  the  first  time 
the  night  before! 

When  she  reached  the  drawing-room,  they  were  all 
going  in  to  dinner. 

"  Is  n't  it  too  bad  f  "  said  Lucy,  on  the  wing.  "  Pat- 
rick will  take  you,  dear;  I  have  just  had  a  note 
from  Sir  Piers,  saying  they  had  decided  to  go  up  to 
town  in  the  evening  train,  and  asking  to  be  espe- 
cially remembered  to  you.  After  our  pleasant  day 
together,  when  we  knew  each  other  better  than  if  we 
had  had  a  whole  season's  meetings  in  town !  Polly, 
perhaps  it  's  as  well  for  Roger's  interests  that  Sir 
Piers  did  leave.  If  I  were  a  girl,  I  'd  never  be  able 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  93 

to  resist  him.  And  add  to  the  odd  circumstance  that 
he  was  thinking  of  you  last  night,  when  Miss  Chester 
detected  him,  that  I  saw  his  eyes  wander  to  you  re- 
peatedly to-day!  There,  don't  mind  my  nonsense, 
child!  But,  oh,  dear!  I  do  wish  I  knew  what  sent 
the  Gilchrists  back  to  town ! " 

Paulina,  in  a  dazed  sort  of  way,  wondered,  also; 
but  that  did  not  soothe  her  disappointment.  Natu- 
rally, it  could  not  be  supposed  that  either  young 
woman  would  connect  this  change  of  plan  with  the 
fact  that,  immediately  after  the  departure  of  the 
guests  from  the  dower-house,  May  had  informed  Sir 
Piers  of  Paulina's  engagement  to  her  cousin. 

ON  Sunday  Lady  Edmund  sternly  marshaled  her 
party  on  foot  to  the  little  church,  all  decked  with 
primroses  for  Whitsuntide,  ranging  them  in  the  Hall 
pews,  close  under  the  rector's  nose  and  the  clerk's 
prayer-book.  During  service,  the  good  example  of 
others  had  the  effect  of  making  Mr.  Cartwright — who, 
at  home,  had  for  years  past  caused  his  wife  and 
daughters  concern,  through  his  habit  of  doubling  up 
in  a  corner  of  the  family  pew  and  remaining,  with  his 
eyes  shaded  from  the  light,  suspiciously  quiet — be- 
have like  a  model  of  propriety.  In  his  immaculate 
black  coat,  tan  gloves,  and  Gladstonian  collar,  he  here 
stood  up,  sang  aloud,  and  delivered  all  the  responses 
in  a  sonorous  voice  that  commanded  the  admiration 
of  beholders. 

When  the  pouch  for  contributions  was  handed,  he 
put  in  an  offering  of  golden  guineas  that  caused  the 
eyes  of  the  clerk  to  blink  with  astonishment;  alto- 


94  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

gether  acquitting  himself,  as  Lucy  afterward  confided 
to  Paulina,  "  in  a  manner  to  do  us  proud." 

A  pretty  feature  of  the  occasion  was  the  wearing  of 
natural  flowers — primroses,  chiefly — by  all  the  vil- 
lagers in  the  congregation ;  and  some  people  thought 
the  sermon  was  of  a  satisfactory  length — twelve  min- 
utes, neither  more  nor  less  —  delivered  without  a  final 
"  g  n  from  start  to  finish. 

Till  the  great  people  had  passed  out,  the  lesser  ones 
kept  their  places  j  and  as  Paulina  looked  at  the  cour- 
tesying  and  bowing  rows  on  either  side  the  aisle,  she 
detected,  dressed  decently  in  black,  and  wearing  the 
usual  knot  of  primroses,  old  Mrs.  Clichett  of  the 
dower-house  making  her  way  to  the  front. 

"  If  you  please,  miss,  I  was  told  to  give  this  into 
your  hand,"  the  old  dame  said,  offering  her  a  flat  par- 
cel addressed  to  her  in  masculine  chirography.  "  My 
orders  were,  as  't  was  a  trifle,  there  was  no  hurry,  an' 
the  young  lady  would  understand.  An'  my  duty  to 
the  gentry,  miss  j  an'  I  hopes  they  are  none  the  worse 
for  the  mortal  queer  food  they  ate  at  the  dower-house 
o'  Wednesday." 

A  series  of  dips,  punctuating  this  speech,  excited  in 
the  hearer  a  wish  to  smile ;  but  she  was  also  conscious 
of  sensations  of  quite  an  opposite  nature.  Thanking 
Mrs.  Clichett  with  enforced  indifference,  she  regained 
her  room,  and,  locking  the  door,  tore  open  the  parcel. 
It  contained  a  sketch,  boldly  and  brilliantly  done  in 
water-color,  of  the  Pheasants'  Walk,  and  on  the  mar- 
gin a  penciled  suggestion  of  a  girl  holding  a  dead  bird 
in  her  hand,  with  the  donor's  initials  underneath. 

When  they  awoke  next  morning,  it  was  to  look  but 


AN  EEEANT  WOOING  95 

upon  a  veritable  Whit-Monday,  the  ground  covered 
with  snow,  the  great  trees  of  the  park  rising  from 
little  green  islands  of  turf  to  which  the  snow  could 
not  penetrate  through  the  thick  leafage.  The  sweet 
songsters  were  all  hushed  j  the  nightingale  that  had 
been  wont  to  begin  her  "  jug-jug ';  trill  at  3  A.  M.,  and 
continue  it  in  a  flood  of  melody  till  dawn,  had  given 
no  sound  that  night.  The  rabbits,  venturing  out,  re- 
mained in  attitudes  of  astonishment  around  the  house. 
From  the  drawing-room,  filled  in  all  its  corners  with 
flowers  cut  under  the  veil  of  snow  that  morning,  peo- 
ple looked  at  the  unwonted  scene  without ;  they  poked 
the  fire,  grumbled,  exclaimed;  then  settled  down  to 
play  halma,  billiards,  and  the  usual  bad-weather 
games. 

Roger,  searching  for  Paulina,  found  her  in  the  li- 
brary. When  he  came  in,  he  rather  fancied  she  wished 
him  not  to  observe  that  she  had  been  looking  at  the 
picture  of  Lady  Gilchrist.  Then  asking  himself  what 
possible  reason  Polly  could  have  for  such  secretive- 
ness,  he  went  to  the  other  extreme  by  speaking  of  it 
in  a  serene  but  somewhat  loud-pitched  voice. 

"  You  've  been  looking  at  the  Gilchrist  pictures, 
eh  ?  Lady  Edmund  was  telling  me  the  little  scene 
the  poor  girl  made  before  this  portrait  of  her  mother. 
Miserable  business  altogether,  and  one  that,  I  fancy, 
is  at  the  bottom  of  Gilchrist's  not  wanting  to  live  in 
England.  Do  you  know,  Polly,  when  I  get  back  to 
town,  I  have  an  idea  of  going  to  beard  Lady  Watson- 
Jones  in  her  den,  and  call  upon  Miss  Gilchrist?  I 
can't  get  that  flower-face  of  hers  out  of  my  thoughts, 
and  the  way  it  brightened  up  when  we  spent  those 


96  AN  ERRANT   WOOING 

racketing  hours  together  at  the  dower-house.  From 
what  she  told  me,  I  fancy  she  has  hard  lines  in  the 
clutches  of  the  old  witch,  though  she  has  no  idea  she 
let  out  anything.  Polly,  do  you  think,  if  you  rode 
more,  it  would  bring  up  your  color  to  be  like  that  of 
these  girls  over  here  ?  I  think  you  are  a  little  pale." 

"  No,  no,  Roger,"  she  answered,  laughing  in  spite 
of  herself ;  "  my  color  is  what  it  always  was.  And  I 
should  advise  you  by  all  means  to  call  on  Miss  Gil- 
christ  when  we  get  back  to  townA 

"  The  best  thing  about  getting  back  to  town  is  that 
I  shall  have  more  of  you/'  the  young  man  said  gal- 
lantly. 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"  How  unenthusiastic !  Can't  you  be  a  little  warmer 
in  view  of  my  model  behavior  in  giving  way  to  every- 
body we  've  met  here,  and  always  taking  a  back  seat  ? 
Really,  Polly,  say  what  you  will,  you  are  a  trifle  pale." 

"  Roger,  don't  be  tiresome,"  she  said,  with  a  sudden 
rush  of  color. 

"  Then  you  are  out  of  spirits." 

"  I  am  not ;  I  am  not.  But  I  am  glad  we  are  going 
from  here  to-morrow." 

"  You  share  my  feeling — oh,  Polly! " 

"  Roger,  how  long  are  you  to  stay  on  this  side  of 
the  Atlantic?" 

"  I  have  three  weeks  longer.  Why  ? " 

"  Oh,  nothing." 

"When  I  do  go,  Polly,  I  shall  count  the  days  till 
you  follow  me." 

"  Ah,  me ! "  sighed  Paulina.     She  then  remembered 


AN  EREANT  WOOING  97 

suddenly  her  fear,  expressed  on  arrival  at  Wooton 
Magna,  that  she  might  be  sorry  she  had  come. 

In  packing  to  return  to  town,  she  put  the  sketch  of 
the  Pheasants'  Walk  resolutely  at  the  bottom  of  her 
trunk.  Common  sense  told  her  there  was  no  likeli- 
hood that  the  giver  would  ever  again  cross  her  path, 
and  equally  that,  some  day  when  she  should  take  out 
the  token  to  recall  the  spot,  she  would  by  that  time 
have  faded  into  a  mere  incident  of  his  travels. 

"  IT  was  a  most  pleasant  visit,"  said  Mrs.  Standish, 
when  they  were  in  a  train  tearing  up  to  London  at 
breakneck  speed.  "  We  must  ask  the  Lansings  to  dine 
directly  we  get  back  to  New  York,  my  daughter,  and 
tell  them  how  beautifully  we  think  Lucy  has  taken 
her  place  in  the  English  aristocracy.  Polly,  you  are 
not  listening.  I  said,  how  beautifully  we  think — " 

"Of  course  we  do,  mother.  Shall  we  have  the 
Whitmans  too,  and  tell  them  about  Mabel?  And 
Mrs.  Cartwright  and  the  girls,  and  tell  them  about 
the  giddy  head  of  their  family  ? " 

"  You  know  that  I  have  never  visited  the  Whit- 
mans, and  I  see  no  reason  to  change  now.  I  consider 
Mabel  Kirby  perfectly  idiotic,  and  I  hope  I  showed  it 
when  I  said  good-by  to  her." 

"  You  looked  as  sweet  and  affectionate  as  possible. 
I  think  Mabel  was  much  encouraged  by  your  ap- 
proval." 

"And,  Paulina, — I  took  especial  care  to  notice, — 
Lord  Barchester  paid  no  attention,  that  I  could  see, 
to  Amaranth.  He  let  her  fetch  and  carry  for  him, 


98  AN  EBB  ANT  WOOING 

and  hardly  took  the  trouble  to  be  polite.  If  I  were 
consulted,  I  should  say  she  has  n't  the  ghost  of  a 
chance  of  catching  him." 

"  Oh,  mother  dear,  what  a  revelation  of  your  real 
malignant  inner  self !  Who  could  have  believed,  when 
you  sat  there  doing  that  piece  of  drawn-work,  that 
you  were  so  engaged  ? " 

"  No ;  I  Ve  no  idea  she  will  succeed,"  went  on  the 
elder  lady,  comfortably.  "It  must  be  very  hard  to 
have  one's  daughter's  settlement  in  life  always  on 
one's  mind,  like  poor  Mrs.  Clyde.  I  suppose  I,  who 
feel  so  differently,  ought  to  be  more  sympathetic  with 
these  people  who  are  still  uncertain  whom  their  daugh- 
ters are  to  marry." 

"  How  this  train  is  rushing  !  "  said  Paulina,  giving 
a  glance  over  at  Roger,  who  was  playing  cards  with 
Toodles  on  the  opposite  seat,  to  see  whether  he  had 
overheard  her  mother. 

"  Paulina,  I  understand  Lord  Edmund  has  decided 
to  lease  Wooton  Magna  for  a  term  of  years.  It  seems 
Sir  Piers  had  refused  to  do  this  while  he  was  here  j 
but  yesterday,  on  the  point  of  leaving  England,  he 
wired  an  acceptance  of  the  offer." 

"  He  has  left  England  ? " 

"Yesterday,  Lucy  said.  Considering  his  age,  I 
think  he  is  a  very  interesting  man,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  never  thought  about  his  age." 

"  Well,  my  dear,  you  know  how  you  look  upon  me 
— how  ancient  you  think  I  am.  I  am  only  two  years 
older  than  Sir  Piers  Gilchrist;  and,  dear  knows,  I 
don't  set  up  to  be  an  object  of  interest  to  society.  No 
doubt  he  has  an  excellent  digestion,  which  keeps  him 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  99 

in  a  good  temper.  Your  poor  father  was  forever  tak- 
ing this  remedy  and  that,  and  was  very  hard  to  keep 
in  spirits.  Sir  Piers  is  certainly  in  a  fine  state  of  pres- 
ervation—  teeth  perfect,  all  his  hair,  eyes  clear,  good 
color.  I  should  think  some  woman  with  a  fortune 
—  somebody  of  a  suitable  age — might  be  found 
glad  enough  to  marry  him  and  be  a  mother  to  that 
poor  girl." 

"Oh! "said  Polly. 


vn 

OME  months  after  her  return  from 
England  to  spend,  as  usual,  the 
summer  in  Massachusetts,  where 
Mr.  Woodbury  owned  a  country 
place,  Mrs.  Standish  was  called  on 
to  attend  her  father  in  his  first 
serious  illness  during  a  long  and  rugged  life.  An 
attack  of  pneumonia,  weathered  by  the  grace  of  God 
and  the  old  man's  robust  constitution,  left  him,  early 
in  January,  a  prisoner  in  his  town  house  with  every 
prospect  of  being  detained  there  until  the  most 
treacherous  season  of  the  year  in  New  York — the 
breaking  up  of  winter  —  should  have  passed. 

In  this  emergency  it  was  manifest  that  some  one 
of  his  family  should  devote  constant  attention  to 
the  convalescent ;  and  as  Mrs.  Low  (Paulina's  Aunt 
Sophy,  who  will  be  remembered  as  possessing  mar- 
riageable daughters)  had  also  an  exacting  husband, 
"  The  back  is  fitted  to  the  burden,"  sighed  Mrs.  Stan- 
dish  5  "  I  am  the  only  one  to  be  counted  upon,  and  I 
must  go." 

By  Paulina  her  mother's  proposition  to  let  their 
own  house,  and  remove  to  her  grandpapa's  to  live, 
was  received  quietly,  as  a  mere  episode  in  interrupted 

work  5  for  our  young  lady  had  this  season  thrown 

100 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  101 

herself  into  occupations  educational  and  philan- 
thropical  that  absorbed  her  days  completely,  and 
was  quite  lifted  above  the  consideration  of  shelter 
and  whereabouts. 

To  Toodles  the  matter  was  one  of  equal  indiffer- 
ence, for,  alas!  a  great  cloud  had  passed  over  the 
fond  mother's  empyrean:  Toodles  had  gone  to  board- 
ing-school !  How  this  climax  had  been  reached  Mrs. 
Standish  hardly  knew.  A  little  of  Roger,  a  little  of 
Paulina,  and  a  great  deal  of  the  boy  himself,  had 
been  contributed  to  influence  her  consent.  She  had 
let  him  go,  dragging  her  heartstrings  with  him,  and 
was  convinced  he  would  not  be  able  to  stand  it  any 
more  than  she.  But  Toodles  had  flourished  and  con- 
tinued cheerful.  He  had  thrown  himself  with  zeal 
into  school  affairs,  had  taken  his  place  creditably  in 
scholarship  and  athletics,  had  made  friends — had 
become  a  different  creature  entirely  from  the  dawd- 
ling and  dispirited  traveler  of  the  year  before.  While 
his  mother  sighed  and  prayed  for  him  at  home,  he 
from  time  to  time  remembered  to  write  her  the  letters 
in  roundhand,  beginning  with  an  apology  and  plung- 
ing at  once  into  details  of  events  in  athletics,  that 
were  like  Greek  to  her  puzzled  brain.  Against  her 
calmer  judgment,  he  had  almost  convinced  her  that 
foot-ball  is  the  aim  and  end  of  adolescent  existence ; 
and  although  secretly  agitated  by  the  risk  to  Toodles's 
beautiful  aquiline  nose,  she  perused  the  reports  of  the 
games  in  which  he  had  taken  part,  burning  with  ex- 
citement over  a  goal  kicked  or  a  touchdown  made  on 
Toodles's  side.  When,  during  one  of  these  encoun- 
ters, her  heir  had  temporarily  disappeared  from  sight 


102  AJST  EEEANT  WOOING 

under  a  mass  of  struggling  young  humanity,  to 
emerge  with  a  broken  collar-bone,  she,  who  had 
heard  of  it  in  New  York,  decided  that  the  world 
must  immediately  cease  to  revolve.  But  this  did  not 
occur;  and  when,  next  day,  she  arrived  upon  the 
scene,  the  sufferer  was  found  complacently  looking 
on  at  another  game  of  foot-ball,  and  wishing  his 
bandages  would  permit  him  to  take  part. 

Toodles  had  arrived  at  his  home  for  the  Thanks- 
giving holiday  in  russet  shoes — his  hair  a  mop  of 
startling  length,  with  which  he  obstinately  refused  to 
part.  Mrs.  Standish  had  therefore  tried  to  persuade 
herself  of  his  moral  decadence,  and  wondered  whether 
he  should  not  be  taken  away  from  school.  But  a  few 
days'  observation  of  his  development  in  manhood, 
joined  to  a  healthy  content  of  spirit,  convinced  her 
there  was  no  excuse  for  tampering  with  a  boy  estab- 
lished in  his  right  place. 

Still,  home  was  not  home  without  Toodles;  and, 
Paulina  acquiescing  in  the  change,  Mrs.  Standish 
found  tenants  for  her  house  in  some  friends  who,  in 
October,  had  set  up  an  "  English  all-the-year-round " 
establishment  in  Westchester,  and  by  Christmas  were 
already  quite  prepared  to  move  into  town. 

"  How  I  wish  papa  could  breathe  that  soft  air  of 
the  Riviera ! "  said  Mrs.  Standish  to  Polly.  "At  least, 
when  it  is  soft.  And  there  's  Corfu !  Don't  you  re- 
member, dear,  Mrs.  Malbrooke,  that  we  met  in  Venice, 
had  just  come  from  Corfu,  and  she  said  there  was 
nothing  like  it?" 

"There  was  always  somebody  just  arrived  from 
some  place  where  we  had  not  been,  mother ;  and  she 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  103 

always  declared  it  was  better  than  anything  we  had 


seen. 
u 


That  's  true,  my  dear ;  but  I  'm  convinced  if  we 
could  once  get  papa  abroad  we  could  find  the  right 
place  for  him.  However,  I  suppose  there  is  no  use 
talking.  Polly,  why  do  you  sigh  ?  You  are  so  busy 
nowadays  with  all  those  classes  and  lectures,  I  hardly 
have  time  to  notice  how  you  seem.  Are  you  happy, 
my  daughter  ?  " 

"Happy!    Why  not?" 

"Why  not,  indeed?  You  are  certainly  a  very 
lucky  girl.  Mrs.  Manhattan,  when  she  was  calling 
yesterday,  said  she  considered  your  prospects  as 
brilliant  as  those  of  any  young  woman  she  knows. 
You  must  see,  my  love,  what  respect  all  old  New- 
Yorkers  have  for  the  Woodbury  estate." 

"  Oh,  of  course !  I  respect  it,  too,  and  all  that 
relates  to  it  —  except  myself,"  she  added  sotto  voce. 

"  You  hear  regularly  from  Roger  ?  " 

"  Every  week.  He  is  a  model  for  Toodles  in  regu- 
larity." 

"  When  your  grandpapa  awoke  from  his  afternoon 
nap  yesterday,  he  asked  me,  quite  eagerly,  about  you 
and  Roger.  I  think,  dear,  he  has  an  idea  that  if  the 
wedding  could  come  off  this  spring  —  " 

"Mother,  I  won't  hear  another  word.  Please  tell 
grandpapa  not  to  think  of  it.  I  have  till  next  Sep- 
tember free." 

"  My  dear  child,  what  ails  you ? " 

"  Did  you  ever  see  me  better  ?  " 

"In  health,  no;  but  you  are  nervous  —  restless. 
Where  are  you  off  to  now?" 


104  AN  ERKANT  WOOING 

"To  Music  Hall,  to  listen  to  one  of  those  lovely 
concerts.  That 's  the  only  place  in  New  York  where 
the  world  of  workaday  stands  absolutely  still,  to  let 
the  conductor's  baton  lift  it  up  into  the  region  of 
pure  sentiment.  Now,  kiss  me,  and  don't  forget  to 
tell  grandpapa  that,  if  I  'm  to  keep  to  my  compact,  he 
must  to  his.  Grandpapa  will  see  that ;  he  's  always 
just." 

By  the  middle  of  February  Mr.  "Woodbury's  physi- 
cians—  the  medical  fraternity  of  New  York  are  so 
well  trained  in  the  art  of  suggesting  agreeable  reme- 
dies to  solvent  patients !  —  announced  that  in  order 
fully  to  restore  the  convalescent's  tone  he  must  spend 
the  ensuing  months  in  a  climate  more  equable  than 
that  of  New  York.  Mrs.  Standish,  who  had  awaited 
in  vain  the  explosion  usually  following  any  proposi- 
tion for  the  old  gentleman  to  leave  his  home,  here 
ventured  on  a  suggestion. 

"I  suppose  you  will  prefer  Florida  or  California, 
papa,"  she  said  meekly. 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  Mr.  Woodbury,  snap- 
pishly. 

"Bermuda?" 

"You  will  please  engage  rooms  in  one  of  those 
boats  that  sail  to  Genoa,"  he  said,  with  decision. 
"  We  shall  go  about  March  1 ;  you  and  I,  Paulina  and 
Roger.  Now,  no  lamentations  about  Toodles,  Rose. 
The  boy  is  perfectly  well  off  where  he  is;  and  you 
know  wild  horses  could  n't  drag  him  abroad  with  you 
again,  even  if  you  were  weak  enough  to  propose  it. 
"Wire  Roger  at  once,  and  write  him  particulars  by 
this  evening's  mail.  Did  you  get  a  blank  from  my 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  105 

table?  What  are  you  delaying  about?  Here  is 
Wilcox  ready  to  take  it.  What  are  you  doing  with 
your  fingers,  Rose?" 

"  Counting  ten  words,  papa ;  but  I  can't  get  it  all 
in.  '  Come — prepared  —  sail — Genoa — March  —  first 
—  Grandpapa's  —  health — Paulina  —  and  I — poor — 
Toodles  —  remains  —  at  —  school.'  I  might  leave  off 
'  health ' ;  he  would  understand  simply  '  Grandpapa.' 
Of  course  Roger  knows  if  you  go  to  Genoa  it  would 
be  because  of  your  health." 

"  Suppose  you  leave  off  '  poor  Toodles  remains  at 
school,' "  said  her  father,  grimly.  "  But,  there ;  give 
it  to  me  as  it  is.  Wilcox,  send  this  message  at  once. 
Now,  Rose,  write  to  the  steamboat  agents,  and,  if  you 
like,  you  can  tell  them  about  Toodles  remaining  at 
school,  and  any  other  little  family  details  of  the  sort 
ladies  generally  introduce.  The  chief  thing  for  me  is 
to  secure  Roger.  I  can't  get  about  in  foreign  parts 
with  only  you  two  women  and  Wilcox." 

The  admission,  unwonted  in  his  independent  lif e,  of 
a  belief  in  any  one's  power  to  help  him  touched  Mr. 
Woodbury's  daughter.  She  obeyed  instructions,  and 
by  the  time  Paulina  returned  from  her  rounds,  just 
before  dinner,  and  stopped  to  speak  with  her  mother 
on  her  way  up-stairs,  preparations  for  their  journey 
were  well  under  way. 

"  You  like  the  idea  ? "  Mrs.  Standish  said,  conclud- 
ing her  narrative. 

"  Like  it  ? "  But  Polly  caught  her  breath,  and  would 
say  no  more. 

"And  it  will  be  particularly  nice  having  Roger. 
He  has  such  an  influence  on  your  grandpapa.  And 


106  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

you  remember  how  delightful  Roger  was  in  England. 
How  long  ago  that  seems — does  it  not,  my  dear?  — 
when  we  were  with  Lucy  and  those  nice  interesting 
Gilchrists !  One  almost  regrets  getting  to  like  peo- 
ple, and  then  having  to  put  the  sea  between  one's  self 
and  them." 

"  You  have  no  idea  where  we  shall  bring  up  ? " 

"Not  the  slightest.  I  did  not  like  to  ask.  Papa's 
old  friend  Professor  Cranleigh  was  here  a  few  nights 
since,  talking  about  a  journey  he  made  last  year  along 
the  Barbary  coast.  It  may  be  we  shall  be  riding  on 
mules,  with  those  Arabs,  in  slippers,  running  by  our 
sides ;  and  it  may  be  Sorrento,  or  Cannes ;  or,  since 
papa  is  so  very  fond  of  Lockhart's  Spanish  ballads,  it 
might  turn  out  to  be  Spain.  When  Roger  comes,  he 
may  have  the  courage  to  ask,  and  then  we  shall 
know." 

"  What  a  jolly  way  to  set  out ! "  said  Paulina. 

"  Polly,  I  am  so  relieved.  I  thought  you  would  n't 
like  it ;  and,  with  all  my  sorrow  over  parting  with  my 
precious  boy,  what  should  I  have  done  ? " 

"  I  '11  be  Toodles  and  Polly  in  one,  darling,"  cried 
the  girl,  kissing  her  mother  tenderly. 

For  the  rest  of  the  evening  she  was  radiant,  a  new 
light  in  her  eyes,  a  new  spring  in  her  feet.  On  awak- 
ening next  morning,  cold  daylight  and  common  sense 
brought  the  usual  quietus  to  hope's  flattering  tale  told 
overnight.  But  still,  during  the  days  before  sailing, 
Polly  was  more  like  her  old  bright  self ;  and  Roger,  on 
answering  in  person  his  grandfather's  summons,  felt 
that  when  larks  fell  his  platter  did  not  fail  to  catch  them. 

It  was  not  a  cheerful  procession — that  of  two  car- 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  107 

riages  and  an  express-wagon  shrouded  in  falling 
snow — which  left  Mr.  Woodbury's  house  one  wild 
March  morning  •  nor  was  it  enlivening  to  pick  a  way 
through  streets  encumbered  on  either  side  with 
weeks-old  banks  of  snow,  black  with  mud  in  the  more 
frequented  parts,  and  strewn  here  and  there  with 
ashes  and  kitchen  refuse,  which  the  high  intelligence 
of  the  city  fathers  had  not  yet  been  able  to  decide 
how  to  remove.  While  jerking  from  side  to  side  to 
avoid  street-cars,  the  occupants  of  the  carriages  felt 
grateful  for  the  fresh  falling  snow  that  sometimes 
distracted  attention  from  such  eye-sores,  and  less 
than  commonly  regretful  at  bidding  adieu  to  the 
proud  metropolis. 

Crossing  the  river  to  the  steamer's  dock  in  Hobo- 
ken,  they  had  barely  time  to  be  installed  in  their 
large,  clean  cabins  when  the  big  North-German  liner 
turned  her  nose  in  the  direction  of  the  Narrows,  and, 
amid  wind  and  sleet,  steamed  safely  out  to  sea. 

A  businesslike  embarkation,  and  a  contrast  to  the 
gossiping  and  emotional  sailings  of  crack  ships  in  the 
early  summer.  On  this  blustering  Saturday,  people 
shunned  the  deck  and  drafty  companionways,  mostly 
hastening  below  to  make  preparation  for  the  rough 
time  that  awaited  them  outside. 

There  were  few  hints  of  the  joys  of  a  southern  At- 
lantic passage  during  the  f our-and-twenty  hours  after 
leaving  New  York.  Wind,  sleet,  angry  cross-seas,  laid 
low  all  but  the  proudest  among  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm's 
passengers.  Even  Polly,  commonly  defiant  of  ocean's 
pranks,  remained  on  her  lounge  under  the  port-hole, 
content  to  watch  the  fierce  green  waves  knock  for  ad- 


108  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

mission  against  its  heavy  glass,  and  then  fall  away 
repulsed,  to  gather  and  pound  again. 

To  Roger,  who  came  intermittently  to  hold  confer- 
ences through  the  curtain  at  her  door,  she  languidly 
confided  that  she  was  not  sick,  only  not  interested  in 
anything  living ;  that  she  liked  to  see  the  waves,  and 
fancy  herself  a  mermaid  under  their  crests ;  that  there 
was  a  funny  steward,  with  electrified  hair,  always 
bouncing  in  to  wait  on  them  j  and  that  she  had  con- 
sumed two  grapes  since  leaving  New  York,  and  would 
thank  him  not  to  propose  anything  more  to  eat. 

Mrs.  Standish's  seasickness  took  the  happy  turn  of 
sleep,  and  Polly,  watching  the  enveloped  form  of  her 
parent  in  the  berth  opposite,  had  abundant  time  for 
meditation  as  the  ship  yielded  to  the  buffeting  of 
mighty  billows. 

By  the  following  afternoon  she  had  had  enough  of 
quiet;  and,  averring  she  could  no  longer  endure  ly- 
ing still  to  hear  the  band  play  hymn-tunes  that  re- 
minded her  of  her  latter  end,  she  shook  off  her  sloth, 
and  dressed,  going  on  deck  to  find  Roger  among  the 
few  promenaders  who  had  ventured  out. 

"  Polly!  This  is  fun ! "  he  cried,  joyfully  tucking 
her  arm  in  his. 

"  I  never  saw  such  a  dismal-looking  sea,"  she  said, 
as  they  staggered  about  together. 

"  Never  mind.  "We  are  still  off  our  own  blustering 
coast.  By  to-morrow  we  '11  have  summer  weather. 
You  should  see  how  pluckily  the  old  gentleman  keeps 
up.  His  man  is  a  good  sailor,  and,  between  us,  we 
had  him  out  for  a  half  hour  to-day.  How  did  you 
manage  to  dress  ?  Of  course  your  maid  is  worse  than 
useless.  They  always  are." 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  109 

"  She  sent  mama  warning  by  the  stewardess  to-day, 
but  I  think  she  will  recant  if  it  ever  is  fine  again. 
Roger,  I  'm  so  desperately  hungry  that  if  I  don't  get 
something  to  eat  now,  this  minute,  I  can't  answer  for 
the  consequences." 

Roger  laughed  as  he  took  her  under  shelter,  and 
with  champagne  and  biscuits  and  a  cup  of  broth  sum- 
moned back  the  brightness  of  her  looks.  By  dinner- 
time she  was  pronounced  cured.  When,  a  day  later, 
the  sun  set  in  a  clear  sky,  the  disagreeables  of  their 
start  were  already  among  the  things  forgiven  and 
forgotten. 

And  now  behold  them  rewarded  by  an  ideal  voyag- 
ing over  a  brilliant  blue  sea,  under  a  brilliant  blue  sky 
islanded  with  silver  clouds.  Early  one  morning  they 
passed  "  Flores  in  the  Azores "  where  "  Sir  Richard 
Grenville  lay,"  and  all  day  walked  the  deck  quoting 
the  stirring  lines  of  "  The  Revenge,"  while  trying  to 
fancy  they  smelled  odors  drifting  seaward  from  the 
flowers  that,  sheltered  in  deep  ravines,  have  given  the 
island  its  name. 

By  noon,  when,  leaving  Terceira,  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  bold  western  headland  of  Fayal, — run- 
ning, as  the  day  progressed,  close  enough  inshore  to 
see  sheep  feeding  on  the  cliffs,  and  men  with  oxen 
plowing  on  the  slopes, — there  was  no  doubt  of  the 
fragrance  of  young  vine-leaves  and  wood-blossoms 
that  followed  the  ship  and  tantalized  its  passengers. 
Here  the  high  hills,  with  their  tightly  stretched  cov- 
erings of  mossy  green,  were  streaked  with  black  fis- 
sures marking  the  passage  of  volcanic  streams.  Vine- 
yards and  orange  groves  clothed  their  flanks,  and 
along  the  shores  caressed  by  curling  lines  of  foam 


110  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

nestled  whitewashed  villages,  each  with  its  dominating 
church  or  convent,  its  red-tiled  roofs,  its  windmill 
shaped  like  a  Maltese  cross.  Peasants,  following 
the  plow,  stopped  to  gaze  at  the  apparition  of  the  big 
steamer  in  their  lonely  waters.  Then,  while  the  ship 
rocked  along  like  a  huge  cradle,  the  lion  couchant  of 
Fayal  faded  from  sight,  Pico  was  left  behind,  St°. 
Jorge  became  a  mist  on  the  horizon — they  were  off 
again  in  the  open  sea,  and  ho  !  for  the  coasts  of  Por- 
tugal and  Spain. 

"Polly,  what  would  you  say  to  exile  with  me  on 
one  of  these  moist  green  islands  ?  "  Roger  had  asked 
as  they  leaned  together  over  the  rail  in  the  starlight. 

Polly  shivered  a  little.  As  luck  would  have  it, 
she  had  been  caught  in  the  act  of  supposing  herself 
alone  with  somebody,  leading  an  existence  hidden 
from  their  world,  upon  these  verdurous  shores.  But, 
strange  to  say,  the  somebody  was  not  Roger. 

"This  is  very  nice,  dawdling  in  a  stanch  ship  in 
such  perfect  weather,"  she  answered  prosaically. 
"  Who  could  suppose  that  only  last  Saturday  we  were 
shivering  under  furs  in  a  snow-storm  in  New  York  ? 
I  am  glad  we  sha'n't  see  those  stupid  docks  at  Liver- 
pool. Roger,  have  you  yet  found  out  where  we  are 
to  land?" 

"  I  have  n't  the  ghost  of  an  idea/'  said  the  young 
man,  smiling.  "My  grandfather  is  having  it  out 
with  the  guide-books  in  his  deck-chair,  and  I  don't 
doubt,  with  his  usual  habit  of  acquiring  information 
solidly,  could  now  pass  a  competitive  examination  in 
Murray,  O'Shea,  and  Baedeker,  on  all  the  Southern 
countries  of  which  they  treat.  As  for  me  —  need  I 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  111 

say? — I  don't  care  a  rap.  Whatever  is,  is  best,  so 
long  as  we  drift  in  tropic  waters,  and  your  temper 
keeps  what  it  has  been  latterly." 

"  Take  care ! "  she  said,  but  was  unable  to  sustain 
her  threatening  attitude  in  the  spell  of  the  fairy  isl- 
ands, from  which,  however,  the  screw  was  carrying 
them  steadily  away. 

It  was  not  until  Monday  evening,  off  the  southern 
coast  of  Spain,  that  the  oracle  chose  to  divulge  their 
destination.  From  Cape  Trafalgar,  spot  of  glorious 
memories,  the  watchers  on  deck  were  reclaimed  for 
the  "  Captain's  dinner,"  at  which  much  bunting,  the 
band,  champagne,  and  a  procession  of  illuminated 
stewards  bearing  illuminated  ices  under  the  minia- 
ture flags  of  Europe  and  America,  gild  the  hours  be- 
fore separation  of  those  who  are  to  land  in  Spain  and 
those  who  are  to  keep  on  to  Italy. 

"  Mr.  Woodbury's  compliments,  m'm,  and  we  shall 
spend  the  night  in  Gibraltar,"  said  Mr.  Woodbury's 
man  to  Mrs!  Standish,  as  she  came  out  from  table  to 
the  deck. 

"  Oh,  my  dears,  I  am  never  surprised ! "  commented 
that  lady  to  her  daughter  and  nephew.  "  Supposing 
this  might  occur,  I  have  had  Justina  pack  all  the 
cabin  things.  And,  indeed,  I  'm  glad  to  take  that 
girl  ashore,  as  she  spends  half  her  time  talking  to 
the  very  foolish-looking  young  steward  who  is  in  our 
entry.  However,  I  had  better  go  below  and  see  that 
all  is  ready." 

Polly  and  Roger,  head  to  head,  were  peering 
through  the  darkness  when  the  ship  steamed  gal- 
lantly in  under  the  shadow  of  the  great  rock,  coming 


112  AN  EKRANT  WOOING 

to  anchor  with  the  firing  of  a  gun  as  the  clocks  of 
Gibraltar  were  striking  nine.  Then  the  indefatiga- 
ble band,  that  had  not  parted  with  its  wind  and 
energy  in  the  fierce  international  effort  of  the  last 
two  hours,  clashed  out  a  proud  announcement  of 
their  arrival  to  the  town.  But  in  vain:  the  town 
and  its  inhabitants  gave  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  a  cold 
shoulder,  no  response  of  any  kind  greeting  the  ears 
of  the  expectant  on  the  ship.  "Was  it  too  late? 
Were  they  contraband  of  war?  Must  they  remain 
aboard  till  morning,  or  would  their  commander's 
haughty  spirit  take  intending  travelers  in  Spain  past 
Spanish  ports  and  on  to  Genoa  ? 

These  queries  were  at  last  answered  by  the  late 
arrival  of  a  small  uncovered  tender  drenched  with 
moisture,  into  which  the  Gibraltar  passengers,  amid 
maddening  confusion,  were  hastily  invited  to  de- 
scend over  a  long,  steep  ladder  ending  apparently 
in  the  sea. 

"Very  pleasant  indeed,"  said  old  Mr.Woodbury,  as, 
on  his  valet's  arm,  he  was  first  to  go  down  the  Sty- 
gian incline.  Under  all  contrary  circumstances  the 
indomitable  old  gentleman  shone  with  peculiar  luster, 
and  he  now  sat  on  a  small  wet  bench,  with  his  feet  in 
a  puddle,  smiling  into  the  darkness.  When  Mrs. 
Standish,  who  followed,  announced  to  him  that  she 
had  lost  her  maid  and  her  hand-luggage,  Mr.  Wood- 
bury  smiled  more  broadly.  His  daughter's  struggles 
with  Justina  were  at  all  times  refreshing  to  his  sense 
of  humor;  and  when  Roger  and  Polly,  having  cap- 
tured Justina  without  the  hand-luggage  in  a  parting 
flirtation  with  the  steward,  came  down  the  gang- 


AN  EKRANT  WOOING  113 

plank  as  the  tender  was  about  to  push  out  upon  a 
dark,  oily  sea,  amid  a  babel  of  hoarse  voices,  Spanish 
and  English,  that  offered  no  comfort  for  his  daugh- 
ter's woe,  Mr.  Woodbury  laughed  aloud. 

"  You  are  very  droll,  my  dear  Rose,  over  your  im- 
pedimenta. Everything  will  come  ashore  in  the  next 
trip  of  the  tender.  But  I  think  if  you  had  been  wise 
you  'd  have  brought  the  bags  and  left  the  woman. 
I  forgot  to  mention  that  the  courier  for  whom  I  ca- 
bled the  day  we  sailed  came  aboard  just  now,  and  he 
will  look  out  for  everything." 

"Then  that  was  our  courier,"  said  Polly — "the 
mysterious  being  who  presented  me  with  a  bunch  of 
violets  as  I  left  the  ship,  and  told  me  all  will  be 
right.  I  had  no  idea  who  he  was,  but  I  was  so  glad 
to  get  fresh  flowers,  I  just  took  them,  and  thanked 
him,  and  ran  along." 

"If  I  had  known,"  said  Roger,  "you  should  have 
had  a  flowery  welcome  here,  like  a  girl  who  came  out 
by  this  line  last  year.  The  young  man  whose  life 
her  absence  had  left  a  blank  dropped  in  at  one  of 
those  florist  places  in  New  York  where  they  under- 
take to  cable  bouquets  to  all  parts  of  the  world ;  and, 
being  rather  doubtful  of  results,  ordered  ten  dollars' 
worth  of  flowers  to  meet  his  fair  at  Gibraltar.  The 
ship  got  in  by  daylight ;  the  passengers  standing  on 
deck  saw  a  rowboat  full  of  lilies  and  roses  and 
orange-blossoms  pull  under  the  landing-stage,  and 
two  men  came  aboard  staggering  under  the  weight 
of  them.  The  poor  girl  was  overpowered,  in  every 
sense,  with  her  trophies." 

"I  have  never  had  enough  flowers,"  cried  Polly. 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"  This  bunch  of  violets  seems  to  me  the  sweetest  I 
ever  smelt.  I  wish  it  had  been  you,  Roger,  who 
presented  them  —  not  the  stately  being  whom  I  took 
to  be  at  least  a  grand  duke  of  Gibraltar." 

Roger  observed  in  his  cousin's  manner,  after  her 
feet  touched  the  old  stone  quay  at  Gibraltar,  an  ex- 
hilaration not  altogether  to  be  attributed  to  the  ex- 
citement of  landing  at  night  outside  the  gate  of  a 
grim  walled  fortress.  Of  Spain,  Spain,  was  all  her 
talk.  She  must  hear  the  ways  and  means  of  getting 
upon  actual  Spanish  soil.  When  the  courier  rejoined 
them  at  the  hotel,  she  asked  him  so  many  questions 
on  this  head  that  Gillson  felicitated  himself  upon 
having  at  least  one  properly  appreciative  tourist  in 
his  charge.  Polly's  last  query  for  the  night,  before 
her  mother  ordered  her  off  to  bed,  was  in  which 
direction  lay  Granada. 

From  the  steamer  Gib-el-Tarik  next  day,  while 
they  waited  for  the  complement  of  passengers  that 
would  justify  sailing  across  the  strait,  our  heroine 
looked  back  regretfully  at  the  rock,  which  the  splen- 
dor of  a  midday  sun  had  not  induced  to  part  with  its 
nightcap  of  cloud.  Mr.  Woodbury,  who  had  arisen 
refreshed  like  a  giant  from  his  sleep,  had  whisked  his 
pai-ty  aboard  the  Tangier  boat,  and  was  now  trotting 
up  and  down  the  deck  in  high  good  humor  with  his 
own  success. 

It  was  a  perfect  day  and  scene,  the  bay  glinting  in 
sunlight,  and  alive  with  every  variety  of  craft.  Far 
away  they  saw  the  black  line  of  a  P.  &  O.  steamer ; 
close  to  their  bows  passed  a  Moorish  felucca  filled 
with  fruit.  Around  her  all  was  life,  animation,  color, 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

radiance  —  and  yet  the  unreasonable  Polly  looked 
back  at  the  Spanish  shore,  and  sighed. 

"Do  you  think,  Roger,  they  have  newspapers 
printed  in  Gibraltar  that  contain  the  lists  of  arrivals 
at  the  hotels  ? "  she  ventured  wistfully. 

"  I  hope  not.  I  pray  that  I  may  not  see  the  printed 
name  of  any  human  being  I  know,  for  a  month  of 
Sundays,"  he  answered,  laughing. 

"I  fancy  grandpapa  will  return  here,"  she  added 
tentatively. 

"  I  don't  know,  1 7m  sure.  The  grand  duke  Gillson, 
who  is  a  most  persuasive  creature,  is  much  more  of  a 
potentate  on  Spanish  soil  than  elsewhere,  and  it  is 
possible  that  he  (and  old  Cranleigh,  who  recom- 
mended him)  may  have  convinced  my  grandfather 
of  the  charms  of  Spain  in  March  and  April." 

"  All  travelers  go  to  Granada,  do  they  not  ?  Is  n't 
the  Alhambra  quite  a  hackneyed  place  ? " 

"Hackneyed!  Is  St.  Peter's  hackneyed?  Is  St. 
Mark's  hackneyed?  Is  the  Taj  hackneyed,  or  the 
Sphinx,  or  either  of  the  great  immemorial  monu- 
ments of  the  world?  There  is  but  one  Alhambra, 
and  to  be  so  near  it,  and  not  see  it,  would  be  a  dis- 
grace to  any  party  not  controlled  by  our  respected 
progenitor.  As  it  is,  we  are  like  the  feuittes  6pMmbres, 
that  go  where  the  zephyr  leads  them.  Just  now, 
Polly,  I  confess  I  ask  nothing  more.  Look  across 
yonder  shining,  dancing  sea.  Let  me  tell  you,  you 
are  going  to  fall  in  love  with  Tangier,  arriving  on 
such  a  day.  It  will  be  like  clapping  your  hands  and 
seeing  forty  thousand  black  slaves  appear,  bearing 
jars  of  jewels  on  their  heads,  or  any  other  genie's 


116  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

work,  to  find  yourself  in  this  sunshine  in  the  unadul- 
terated Bast.  I  wish  you  would  look  a  little  livelier." 

"I  do.  I  am/'  she  cried,  throwing  off  in  secret 
shame  the  haunting  thoughts  Roger  could  not  divine. 

By  the  time  they  had  passed  Tarifa,  the  last 
stronghold  of  the  Moors  in  Spain,  and,  leaving  the 
Spanish  coast  with  its  Moorish  watch-towers,  its 
blaze  of  yellow  gorse,  the  boat  had  steamed  out 
where  the  Atlantic  pours  its  volume  into  the  Medi- 
terranean, she  was  again  as  gay  as  a  bird  on  the  wing. 

In  truth,  nature  here  withheld  no  coaxing  from  the 
depressed  in  body  or  spirit.  Behind  them  the  great 
rock  and  the  purple  line  of  the  Sierra  melted  into 
the  softer  hues  of  distance.  Before  lay  the  verdant 
coasts,  the  golden  sands,  the  snow-clad  summits,  of 
northern  Africa.  In  the  marvelously  clear  atmo- 
sphere they  could  almost  believe  that  by  stretching 
out  a  hand  it  were  possible  to  seize  the  snow  lying 
in  the  clefts  of  the  Atlas  Mountains,  which,  as  sun  or 
shade  struck  their  bold  masses,  took  on  varied  tints 
of  azure  —  the  blue  of  turquoise  streaked  with  the 
blue  of  lapis-lazuli.  And  all  too  soon,  away  to  the 
southwest,  were  pointed  out  the  white  lines,  like 
clothes  hung  out  to  dry  upon  a  green  background 
of  hills,  announced  to  be  the  houses  of  Tangier. 

Full  of  delighted  curiosity,  Paulina  found  they 
had  come  to  anchor  in  the  bay  of  Tangier  before 
she  was  aware  of  the  arrival  of  a  fleet  of  small 
boats,  crowded  with  strange,  wild  figures,  barelegged, 
black  or  brown,  of  majestic  proportions,  an  escaped 
chorus  from  an  Eastern  opera,  clad  in  a  variety  of 
picturesque  robes  and  rags,  who  stood  up  shouting, 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  117 

gesticulating,  struggling,  quarreling,  and  clearly 
thirsting  for  the  blood  of  those  they  sought  to 
decoy  into  their  several  crafts. 

Justina,  indeed,  a  timid  blossom  of  forty  summers, 
wept  with  alarm  at  the  invasion,  and  was  little  com- 
forted by  the  courier's  assurance  that  this  hurlyburly 
meant  no  more  than  the  usual  acclaim  of  hackmen  at 
railway-stations  of  other  countries.  Roger  told  his 
aunt  that  her  maid,  invited  into  the  arms  of  one  of 
"  them  savages,"  to  be  deposited  in  the  stern  of  a  rock- 
ing boat  piled  with  luggage,  wore  the  expression  of 
Virginia  when  she  declined  to  be  saved  for  Paul. 


VIII 


T  was  a  trifle  disappointing  to  Pau- 
lina— who  found  herself,  upon  touch- 
ing African  soil,  with  her  brain  ablaze 
like  a  child's  in  a  toy-shop — that  the 
first  bedroom  assigned  to  her  in  the 
East  was  supplied  with  the  usual 
commonplaces  of  comfortable  living.  A  soap-dish, 
mug  for  tooth-brushes,  bell-pull,  mosquito-net,  a  door 
that  locked,  were  considerations  so  banal  in  an  apart- 
ment where  by  running  to  the  window  one  might  see 
veiled  ladies  taking  the  air  on  flat  roofs  under  a  sky 
of  vivid  blue,  or  by  looking  down  into  the  narrow 
street  take  observation  of  a  common  school  in  the 
house  opposite,  where  delicious  amber  infants  with 
topaz  eyes  squatted  on  the  floor,  rocking  back  and 
forth  over  hornbooks  containing  selections  from  the 
Koran. 

So  lost  in  interest  was  she  in  an  altercation  between 
the  teacher  — Father  Abraham  himself,  turbaned,  caf- 
taned,  and  with  a  long,  flowing  white  beard — and  a 
naughty  little  Moor  finally  sentenced  to  stand  on  one 
leg  for  misdemeanor,  that  Miss  Standish  delayed  in 
brushing  her  hair,  and  was,  as  usual,  late  when  called 
to  go  down-stairs. 

118 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  119 

In  the  lower  hall  of  the  hotel,  with  its  Moorish  fit- 
tings and  curiosities  arrayed  for  sale,  they  sat  in  a 
pleasant  sea  breeze,  and  drank  their  tea.  At  little 
tables,  here  and  there,  groups  of  people  similarly  em- 
ployed showed  that  the  trail  of  the  tourist  was  over 
Tangier.  Polly  took  special  note  of  an  English  bride 
and  groom,  the  latter  a  handsome,  fair  man  in  knick- 
erbockers who  surveyed  his  own  legs  in  worsted 
stockings  alternately  with  evident  approbation,  and 
spake  no  word  to  the  partner  of  his  joys.  And  then 
Miss  Standish  became  aware  of  the  vicinity  of  some 
transatlantic  steamer  companions  she  had  desired  to 
avoid. 

"Let  me  give  you  some  cream,  Roger,"  she  said, 
seizing  the  jug  and  deluging  her  cousin's  cup.  "I 
don't  want  to  see  those  Montana  horrors,  don't  you 
understand  ? " 

"All  right,  though  I  take  no  cream,  as  you  know. 
I  thought  I  was  used  to  the  vagaries  of  young  women 
in  tea-cup  time,  but  this — " 

"Never  mind;  here  's  another  cup.  I  wish  they 
would  give  us  something  Moorish  to  eat,  not  English 
tinned  biscuits.  There,  I  knew  it!  Grandpapa  is 
affably  conversing  with  Senator  (or  Judge,  is  it?) 
Galusha  "W.  Treat,  whom  he  considers  a  'fine,  deserv- 
ing self-made  man.'  I  wish  he  had  let  somebody  else 
make  him!  On  the  crossing  to  Tangier  the  Treats 
never  left  the  cabin  of  the  Gib-el- TariJc,  she  crochet- 
ing, he  reading  a  copy  of  the  Paris  edition  of  the 
'New  York  Herald'  bought  in  Gibraltar." 

"  I  did  that  myself,  with  great  satisfaction,"  quoth 
Roger,  doughtily. 


120  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"Now  we  are  about  to  become  the  Treats'  bosom 
friends.  Mama  is  answering  her  vapid  questions. 
Roger!  She  is  talking  about  her  cooks !  And  grand- 
papa has  launched  into  American  politics  with  him  ! 
What  did  they  come  abroad  for?  They  are  practi- 
cally deaf,  dumb,  and  blind  to  what  we  enjoy,  and  yet 
they  are  the  kind  who  swarm  in  foreign  parts,  and 
become  our  national  reproach,  while  hundreds  of 
eager,  ardent  poetic  spirits  stay  at  home,  forced  to 
lead  narrow  lives,  and  eat  their  hearts  out  with  long- 
ing for  the  opportunity  of  travel.  Tell  me,  Roger, 
what  will  the  Galusha  W.  Treats  get  by  being  in  these 
parts  ? " 

"All  Americans  desire  to  see  what  all  Americans 
have  seen.  You  know  we  have  stopped  being  one 
of  the  'races'  Henry  James  once  spoke  about,  'for 
which  the  type  of  domestic  allurement  is  the  parlor 
hearth-rug.'" 

"Look  at  those  dear  Arabs,"  said  Paulina,  jumping 
up  to  cross  the  hall  and  survey  a  group  of  runners 
for  the  hotel,  picturesque  figures  with  bare  legs  and 
feet,  and  flashes  of  vivid  color  about  their  drapery, 
who  stood  inside  the  front  door.  "  Oh,  I  can't  rest 
here!  I  did  not  come  to  Africa  to  take  tea  with 
Judge  and  Mrs.  Treat.  Come,  grandpapa,  mama,  let 
us  explore  the  town." 

"I  should  be  very  glad  to  do  so,"  said  Mrs.  Stan- 
dish,  while  the  courier  discussed  their  arrangements 
with  a  white-robed  official,  whose  function  seemed  to 
be  to  talk  for  hours  about  the  idiosyncrasies  of  each 
individual  mule  to  be  engaged.  "  But  I  think  it  would 
discourage  Justina  to  leave  her  alone  in  a  strange 


AN  EEEANT  WOOING  121 

hotel.  The  poor  thing  is  feeling  very  nervous  since 
we  arrived." 

"Put  Justina  on  one  donkey,  and  "Wilcox  on  an- 
other, and  let  them  keep  each  other  company/'  said 
Roger,  promptly. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Roger ;  you  always  settle  things," 
responded  his  aunt.  "  But  then,  I  have  n't  your  cour- 
age with  servants,  or  Paulina's.  Polly  dear,  would 
you  mind  letting  Justina  know  she  is  to  come,  and  see 
that  she  has  had  her  tea,  and  tell  her  she  may  use  my 
lavender  salts  if  her  head  aches ;  and — " 

"I  think  that  is  enough,  Rose,"  said  her  father, 
dryly. 

In  the  narrow  lane  outside  the  chief  door  of  the 
hostelry  were  assembled  a  drove  of  eight  or  ten  mules 
in  process  of  saddling  by  as  many  Moors.  The 
words,  cries,  threats,  gesticulations,  disputes,  ex- 
pended in  this  performance  passed  computation  by 
the  visitors,  who  thought,  like  the  Irishman  going 
on  an  excursion  in  a  sedan-chair  without  a  bottom, 
"If  it  was  n't  for  the  honor  of  the  thing,  I  might 
just  as  well  have  walked." 

At  last  mounted, — the  women  upon  crimson  pads 
inclosed  on  three  sides,  and  offering  every  facility 
for  sliding  to  the  ground, —  they  set  off  over  the 
pointed  cobblestones  of  the  so-called  streets,  in 
which,  to  avoid  collision  with  innumerable  pack- 
donkeys  carrying  all  a  Tangerine  eats  and  wears  and 
drinks  and  uses,  a  rider  must  either  have  had  experi- 
ence, or  be  content  to  think  of  nothing  else.  Thus,  at 
the  bridle-rein  of  the  newcomer  is  generally  seen  a 
native  to  whom  are  committed  the  "cares  that  infest" 


122  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

the  way  of  the  filthy,  fascinating  town ;  and  to  Polly 
was  assigned  Shamar,  a  bright-eyed,  good-looking 
young  fellow  in  red  fez  and  slippers  and  blue  bur- 
noose.  He  managed  to  make  himself  understood  in 
a  compound  of  French,  Arabic,  and  English,  and 
marched  gaily  beside  her,  calling  out  at  intervals, 
"Balak!  Balak!"  the  usual  warning  to  living  ob- 
stacles to  get  out  of  one's  path. 

Roger,  leading  the  procession,  had  secured  a  little 
white  Arabian  mare  that  minced  like  a  fine  lady 
through  the  dirt  of  the  streets,  but  could,  on  occa- 
sion, "  go  like  smoke,"  as  Shamar  said.  After  Pau- 
lina came  Mr.  Woodbury,  on  a  donkey  so  small  that 
his  respectable  old  legs  nearly  swept  the  pavement. 
Mrs.  Standish  was  escorted  by  the  courier,  and  in  the 
wake  of  the  Treats  (invited  by  Mr.  Woodbury  to  use 
two  extra  mules  brought  in  for  his  party)  were  seen 
Justina,  on  a  tiny  beast  selected  by  her  as  being 
nearest  the  ground  in  case  of  a  fall,  and  Wilcox,  try- 
ing to  preserve  his  smug  dignity  astride  of  a  large 
flea-bitten  mule. 

Passing  between  the  whitewashed  house  walls  that 
seemed  to  hide  tempting  mysteries ;  under  the  mosques, 
the  gay  summits  of  which  glittered  with  blue  and 
green  faience;  between  the  gay  little  shops,  honey- 
combed on  either  side  the  way,  where  high-bred  old 
dealers  sit  inside  on  their  yellow  slippers,  and  the 
artificer  plies  his  trade  as  his  forebears  plied  it  hun- 
dreds of  years  ago,  Paulina  resisted  all  Shamar's  wiles 
to  induce  her  to  purchase  of  his  uncles  and  cousins 
along  their  route. 

"No  money,"  she  cried  again  and  again,  showing 
empty  hands. 


AN  EKEANT  WOOING  123 

"All  right,  lady,"  Shamar  responded,  grinning 
amiably.  That  she  had  left  plenty  of  money  in  New 
York,  the  guileless  native  managed  to  convey  to  her, 
was  a  fact  he  perfectly  understood.  Shamar,  indeed, 
begged  Polly  to  take  him  to  America,  where  he 
pledged  himself  to  run  by  her  mule  and  pick  up  the 
gold  lying  in  the  streets ! 

"  The  Soko  is  just  ahead,  through  that  old  gate  in 
the  city  wall,"  said  Roger,  turning  to  speak  with  his 
cousin.  "  As  the  rest  of  the  party  seem  to  be  unac- 
countably delayed,  I  think  I  '11  go  back  to  look  for 
them.  You  can  wait  in  the  market-place  till  we 
come.  Shamar  will  take  care  of  you.  You  're  not 
afraid?" 

"  No,"  she  cried,  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction.  "  Ex- 
cept that  I  shall  never  know  whether  I  am  in  the  Old 
Testament  or  the  '  Arabian  Nights.' " 

"  This  is  the  only  town  I  was  ever  in  where  I  do 
not  prefer  to  walk,"  Roger  remarked  as  he  rode 
away. 

"  I  had  not  thought  of  that,"  said  Polly,  suddenly 
becoming  unpleasantly  aware  of  the  condition  of 
things  underfoot,  while  above  her  the  splendid  Afri- 
can sun,  tempered  by  an  intermediate  veil  of  sea- 
mist,  made  the  world  seem  too  bright  and  beautiful 
for  mortal  use,  and  the  breeze  bore  to  her  nostrils 
odors  of  orange-blossoms  and  wood-violets. 

Under  an  arched  gateway  of  the  ancient  crenelated 
wall,  whereo'n  grow  moss  and  stonecrop  and  tufts  of 
flowering  plants — a  flower  bursts  where  a  seed  falls 
in  Morocco  —  they  passed  into  the  Soko.  It  is  a 
broad  open  space  on  the  slope  of  a  sun-baked  hill, 
capped  by  a  line  of  melancholy  tombs.  Throughout 


124  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

the  length  and  breadth  of  it  she  saw  a  gray-brown 
moving  mass  of  men,  women,  children,  donkeys, 
dogs,  so  closely  welded  that  collision  and  annihila- 
tion for  some  seemed  inevitable. 

Here,  amid  a  confusion  of  sights  and  sounds,  the 
cries  of  showmen  and  venders,  of  camels,  cattle,  asses, 
sheep,  calves,  the  beating  of  native  drums,  and  blow- 
ing of  native  whistles,  Paulina  sat  upon  her  mule, 
thankful  for  that  means  of  isolation  from  the  dirt  of 
the  crowd,  and  strove  to  disentangle  her  first  impres- 
sions of  this  page  of  the  historic  East. 

The  people  —  tawny,  tattered,  pathetic  paupers,  of 
no  use  to  themselves  or  to  humanity  —  steeped  in  the 
depths  of  degradation  of  past  ages  —  seemed  to  her 
to  be  mere  animated  grains  of  sand  from  some  des- 
ert of  antiquity.  It  was  all  sad,  depressing.  And 
then  the  ineffable  beauty  of  the  golden  atmosphere 
fell  with  a  sudden  glory  over  her,  and  over  the  scene; 
the  elixir  of  the  air  passed  into  her  veins;  she  saw, 
at  every  turn,  pictures  by  Ge"rome  or  Henri  Reg- 
nault;  the  dirt,  the  misery,  the  rags,  blended  indis- 
tinguishably  with  color,  life,  and  movement  to  make 
the  Orient  of  her  dreams. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  market-place  a  train  of 
camels  just  in  from  the  Fez  country  dropped  on  their 
weary  knees  as  they  were  called  to  a  halt,  and,  stretch- 
ing their  long  necks  vainly  around  in  search  of  some- 
thing to  eat  while  their  packs  were  taken  off,  made 
mournful  remonstrance  because  food  was  not.  Fol- 
lowing the  camels  came  another  file  of  beasts  of  bur- 
den in  silhouette  against  the  sky-line  —  women  with 
splay  feet  and  bare  legs,  who,  carrying  babies  in  the 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  125 

coarse  mantles  that  constituted  their  sole  coverings, 
bore  on  their  heads  huge  bundles  of  furze  for  fire- 
wood. 

At  every  turn  Paulina  collected  pictures  to  hang  up 
in  the  gallery  of  memory.  Here  passed  a  stunning 
pair :  a  Rif  mountaineer,  wild  and  haughty,  carrying 
his  matchlock,  without  which  one  of  these  desperate 
fellows  would  not  care  to  venture  forth  from  his 
eyrie  in  the  hills ;  at  his  heels,  his  wife,  less  veiled 
than  the  women  of  Tangier,  handsome  and  bold, 
tattoo-marks  showing  under  the  silver  clasps  and 
chains  over  her  breast,  a  net  containing  live  chickens 
swung  upon  her  back. 

Next,  a  graybeard  Moor  carrying  on  his  shoulder 
above  the  crowd  a  naked  cafe-au-lait  cherub,  as  lovely 
as  any  Murillo  ever  painted  —  round  limbs,  fat  little 
paunch,  eyes  like  diamonds,  a  mischievous  rosy  mouth. 
"  No  wonder  the  patriarch  is  proud,"  thought  Paulina, 
"  of  the  admiration  his  charge  creates."  This  pictur- 
esque couple  was  succeeded  by  an  old  hag,  a  mass  of 
wrinkles,  her  single  garment,  a  piece  of  burlap,  serv- 
ing also  as  a  veil.  Ah  !  could  wife  and  mother  sink 
to  be  like  this  ? 

A  sister  of  charity,  hurrying  along;  a  priest  or 
two ;  of  Jews  a  plenty;  a  sprinkling  of  tourists,  Span- 
iards, Rock-Scorpions,  Soudanese,  Berbers;  types  of 
all  tribes,  samples  of  all  colors  of  children  of  the  dark 
continent.  And  amid  the  shrouded  shapes  of  the  na- 
tive women,  by  whose  eyes  only  could  one  judge  of 
their  beauty,  came  tripping,  with  the  gay  insouciance 
(and  perhaps  other  characteristics)  of  Carmen,  a 
pretty  Spanish  girl,  bareheaded,  with  a  pink-and- 


126  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

white  camellia  in  the  parting  of  her  jetty  locks,  and 
a  shoot  of  green  bamboo  in  the  knot  behind.  Her 
cheeks  were  highly  rouged,  her  eyes  darkened,  but 
her  clean  pink  calico  spencer  and  blue  skirt  were  in 
refreshing  contrast  to  her  surroundings. 

Then  a  fierce,  warlike  brown  man,  with  hideous  red 
gashes  where  eyeballs  had  been  —  a  notorious  robber 
and  murderer,  whose  eyes  had  been  put  out  by  the 
paternal  Sultan  to  keep  him  from  further  mischief. 

Again,  a  tall  soot-black  negro,  standing  aloof,  with 
a  forest  of  black  hair,  parted  in  the  middle,  bound 
with  a  fillet,  and  braided  with  cowrie-shells,  upon  his 
shoulders,  wearing  his  ragged  mantle  with  an  air  of 
senatorial  dignity. 

"  He  is  really  much  more  my  idea  of  a  senator  than 
Judge  Treat,"  mused  naughty  Polly,  who,  finding  at 
that  moment  near  her  hand  a  pate  shaven  except  for 
the  long  plaited  lock  depending  at  the  back, — by 
which  appendage  the  wearer  believes  he  will  be 
jerked  into  paradise  when  his  time  comes, — was 
seized  with  a  desire  to  pull  it,  and  stand  by  the  con- 
sequences. 

"You  darling!"  she  exclaimed,  her  attention  ar- 
rested by  a  lovely  unveiled  maiden  of  thirteen  or 
fourteen  who  stood  motionless,  clasping  to  her  bo- 
som a  white  chicken.  The  little  girl  had  walked, 
Shamar  explained,  ten  miles,  from  the  flower-enam- 
eled country  where  she  lived,  in  hopes  of  selling  her 
fowl  for  twenty  sous.  "Give  her  this,  Shamar;  yes, 
you  shall.  I  must  be  obeyed.  In  America  ladies  are 
always  obeyed,  and,  besides,  it  is  only  half  a  franc." 

"No  good,"  said  Shamar,  while  submitting;  and 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  127 

the  flower  face  was  illuminated  with  a  look  of  grati- 
tude that  made  Polly  wish  she  had  given  twice  as 
much. 

Turning,  she  saw  another  young  girl,  timid  and 
terrified,  her  arm  in  the  grasp  of  a  black  man  who 
appealed  to  the  passers-by  in  harsh  gutturals. 

"Oh!  what  is  it?"  Paulina  asked;  but  Shamar 
could  not  or  would  not  answer;  he  was  now,  with 
thwacks  and  adjurings,  bent  upon  leading  her  mule 
to  view  the  performance  of  a  serpent-charmer,  whither 
Shamar's  own  taste  evidently  turned. 

The  way,  as  they  advanced,  was  more  encumbered. 
The  eternal  donkey  was  everywhere  struggling,  car- 
rying in  his  panniers  bales  of  stuff,  barrels  of  water, 
crates  of  bread,  meat,  vegetables,  eggs,  coops  of 
fowls,  live  lambs  and  calves,  fagots  for  kindling, 
baskets  of  fruit  and  sweetmeats,  dates,  nuts,  and 
medlars,  amphora  of  milk  and  sheep's  butter,  native 
confections  of  orange  and  jujube,  sheaves  of  callas 
and  heliotrope,  oranges  and  lemons  decked  with  their 
own  flowers,  red  dye-stuff  for  women's  nails  and  for 
the  wool  of  sheep. 

"  At  last  I  can  understand,"  quoth  Paulina  to  Sha- 
mar (who  said,  when  she  had  finished,  "Yes,  lady," 
although  he  naturally  did  not  comprehend  ten  words), 
"  the  shopping  excursion  of  that  damsel  in  the  l  Ara- 
bian Nights '  who  engaged  the  porter  to  carry  home 
so  many  nice-sounding  things  for  her  to  eat,  and 
afterward  entertained  him  by  whipping  little  dogs." 

They  had  now  reached  the  outer  verge  of  the 
throng  surrounding  the  snake-charmer,  and  saw  that 
a  double  bill  had  been  provided  by  the  management 


128  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

for  the  diversion  of  the  public.  A  terrible  old  wiz- 
ard with  black  ringlets,  like  a  nightmare,  was  lighting 
wisps  of  dirty  straw  picked  np  from  the  ground,  and 
stuffing  them  into  his  mouth ;  while  his  comrade  sor- 
cerer, by  frenzied  leaping  to  the  music  of  a  drum  and 
pipe,  strove  to  excite  himself  and  deaden  his  sensibili- 
ties for  the  introduction  of  the  heads  of  two  disgust- 
ing snakes  into  his  mouth,  whence  they  were  expected 
to  draw  blood. 

"I  won't  stay  here,"  said  Miss  Standish, positively; 
but  again  Shamar  was  attacked  with  convenient 
deafness,  and  she  was  fain  to  turn  away  her  head 
altogether,  and  look  over  on  the  other  side  of  the 
slope,  where  a  professional  story-teller,  a  handsome, 
olive-skinned  young  man  with  mobile  face,  in  clean 
white  robes,  wearing  a  hat  like  a  candle-extinguisher, 
waved  a  long  black  wand  to  emphasize  his  tales  be- 
fore an  audience  of  men  and  boys  sitting  cross-legged 
around  him  on  the  ground. 

"  Oh,  dear !  I  want  to  tell  some  one  how  this  strikes 
me.  I  am  enchanted,  but  all  the  same  I  am  just  in 
the  state  to  worship  the  first  clean  white  person  of 
my  own  kind  I  see.  I  wish  Roger  would  come.  I 
feel  as  if  I  know  nobody  but  Shamar  in  the  whole 
wide  world,"  went  through  her  mind  in  whimsical 
meditation.  "  I  wonder  how  it  would  seem  to  know 
only  one  person  in  the  world.  A  woman  told  me 
once  she  can  never  get  enough  of  the  society  of  those 
she  loves;  that  she  would  like  to  sit  for  an  eon  on  the 
verge  of  a  star  talking  to  her  best  friend.  The  ques- 
tion is,  of  course,  who  would  the  best  friend  be? 
Roger  —  could  I  sit  with  Roger  for  an  eon  ?  No,  no, 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  129 

no  !  There  never  was  but  one,  and  oh !  what  in  the 
world  makes  me  so  silly  as  to  think  about  him  now?" 

"Balak!  Balak!" 

"  Whose  voice  was  that  ? "  said  Polly  aloud,  quickly 
swinging  around  in  her  saddle,  and  looking  up  the 
path. 

"Balak!  Balak!" 

There  was  no  mistake.  It  was  he,  riding  down 
toward  her,  the  man  who  for  months  had  possessed 
the  fortress  of  her  virgin  heart !  In  another  moment 
they  would  be  face  to  face. 

Sitting  his  horse  with  the  negligent  grace  she  re- 
called as  part  of  him,  cleaving  the  tawny  multitude 
with  good-humored  command,  into  this  scene  of  foul- 
ness and  squalor  he  seemed  to  bring  a  breath  of  the 
lavender  and  iris  from  the  hills.  Following,  also  on 
horseback,  came  May  Gilchrist;  and  Paulina,  to  whom 
this  overture  would  not  have  been  so  easy  had  he 
been  alone,  bravely  and  joyously  called  out  his  name. 

"You  here ! "  exclaimed  Sir  Piers,  with  a  look  of 
pleased  astonishment  that  fairly  matched  her  own. 
"  May,  it 's  Miss  Standish ;  or  is  it  still  Miss  Stan- 
dish  ? "  he  added,  in  what  Polly  forlornly  felt  to  be 
altogether  too  matter-of-fact  a  tone. 

She  explained  their  presence  in  Tangier,  learning  in 
return  that  the  Gilchrists  had  been  making  expedi- 
tions to  Ceuta,  Tetuan,  etc.,  keeping  Tangier  as  their 
headquarters ;  that  May  had  proved  herself  a  famous 
horsewoman  and  raider  of  the  hills,  meeting  with- 
out flinching  many  severe  tests  of  her  endurance  of 
fatigue.  Paulina  saw  at  once  the  change  wrought  in 
May  by  a  life  of  independence  in  her  father's  com- 


130  AN  EREANT  WOOING 

pauionship.  The  awkward  girl  had  bloomed  into  the 
beautiful  young  woman,  whose  eyes  met  one's  frankly, 
whose  native  gladness  of  spirit  now  gave  itself  free 
rein.  Beside  May's  large,  fair  radiance  Paulina  in- 
stinctively felt  herself  to  be  a  brownie,  a  creature  to 
be  overlooked,  ignored,  noticed  only  when  she  might 
give  utterance  to  some  saying  saved  by  wit. 

And  (there  was  no  doubting  this)  in  the  ten  minutes 
while  they  talked  Paulina  disposed  savagely  of  her 
last  lingering  belief  that  Gilchrist  had  ever  felt  for 
her  anything  more  than  a  man's  passing  admiration 
for  "  rather  a  jolly  little  girl." 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  thought;  "that 's  what  he  calls  me, 
no  doubt.  I  've  been  a  fool,  a  fool,  a  fool.  He  looks 
me  full  in  the  face,  coolly,  as  if  I  were  any  other 
tourist  in  brown  serge ;  there  is  not  a  tremor  in  his 
voice,  while  I  am  trying  so  awfully  hard  to  squeeze 
mine  into  steadiness.  I  deserve  it.  All  girls  who  are 
so  untrue  to  higher  womanhood  as  to  fall  in  love  un- 
sought, should  be  punished  just  as  I  am  now.  It 's 
all  over  forever,  slain  in  the  Soko  at  Tangier.  I 
ought  to  put  up  a  little  tablet  here,  with  that  on  it  for 
an  inscription,  to  warn  other  idiotic  girls.  What  1 7ve 
got  to  do  is  to  reward  poor  Roger  for  his  lifetime  of 
devotion,  I  suppose.  Poor  Roger,  who  has  suffered 
so  long  by  me !  There  he  conies  through  the  gateway, 
my  family  after  him.  Here,  Roger,  look  this  way ; 
rescue  your  poor  Polly  from  this  ogre  of  an  English- 
man who  has  come  so  near  crunching  her  bones !  Oh, 
I  shall  laugh  at  myself  —  I  won't  cry;  nobody  shall 
say  I  'm  suffering.  And  to  think  how  I  've  been  look- 
ing over  at  those  hills  where  they  tell  me  Granada  is, 


AN  ERRANT   WOOING  131 

and  longing  and  yearning  —  yes,  yearning  (I  may 
tell  my  inside  self  the  truth)  to  be  there  —  only  to  see 
Sir  Piers  once  more !  The  sole  comfort  is,  he  's  not 
unworthy  of  all  I  've  felt  for  him  —  not  a  bit  un- 
worthy. He  's  a  man,  if  ever  there  was  one  —  a  big, 
true,  noble,  tender  man,  no  matter  where  he  came 
from.  Here  's  Roger!  Ah!" 

And  with  a  sigh  of  relief  the  self -tormentor  leaned 
from  her  saddle,  calling  out  a  welcome  to  her  cousin, 
while  bestowing  on  him  the  sweetest  smile  he  had 
had  from  her  for  many  a  long  day. 

Roger,  properly  astonished  at  Paulina's  company, 
exchanged  handshakes  with  the  Gilchrists,  explain- 
ing in  due  time  the  cause  of  his  delay.  Justina's  don- 
key, having  slipped  on  a  trifle  of  a  dead  rat  in  the 
middle  of  the  Tangerine  Piccadilly,  had  fallen,  precipi- 
tating its  burden  upon  the  greasy  breast  of  Abdallah, 
her  attendant;  and,  this  combination  proving  too 
much  for  the  nerves  of  the  lady's-maid,  she  had  fa- 
vored the  onlookers  with  what  Wilcox  called  "  high- 
strikes,"  necessitating  another  steed,  and  the  return 
of  Justina  to  the  hotel.  "We  had  much  ado,"  he 
added,  "  to  keep  your  mama  from  accompanying  her, 
till  a  few  expressive  words  from  my  grandfather  deter- 
mined my  aunt's  progress  in  this  direction.  You  '11 
be  glad  to  learn,  Paulina,  that  we  left  the  Treats  pur- 
chasing brass  trays  in  a  little  shop,  where  they  will 
probably  remain  till  dinner-time." 

While  speaking,  the  young  man  toyed  with  a  spray 
of  fresh  orange-blossoms ;  and  as  the  Gilchrists  rode 
forward  to  greet  Mrs.  Standish,  he  laid  it  timidly  on 
Polly's  lap. 


132  AN  ERE  ANT  WOOING 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  dear  Roger ! "  Paulina  said,  with 
emphasis ;  and,  casting  away  the  bunch  of  red  roses 
she  had  hitherto  worn  at  her  girdle,  she  put  in  their 
place  Roger's  flowers — a  substitution  of  which  Gil- 
christ  did  not  fail  to  take  note. 

"That  might  be  called  a  pretty  little  hint,"  the 
Englishman  observed  to  himself  when,  having  agreed 
to  meet  that  evening  at  a  discreet  cafe  cJiantant 
where  stranger  ladies  were  made  welcome,  the  party 
separated. 

"  ROGER,  I  have  asked  you  twice  if  you  don't  think 
May  Gilchrist  the  most  improved  girl  you  ever  saw," 
said  Paulina,  after  dinner,  as,  in  the  wake  of  two  lan- 
terns of  pierced  brass  swung  by  white-robed  atten- 
dants, they  followed  the  courier  and  Hadji  with  his 
staff  and  turban  from  the  hotel  into  the  mystery  of 
the  night. 

"  What  a  delicious  soft  atmosphere !  One  can  hear 
the  sea,  without  seeing  it;  and  I  smell  orange-blos- 
soms," he  said  dreamily. 

"They  are  yours  I  'm  wearing  still — they  Ve  kept 
perfectly  fresh." 

"  If  you  like,  I  will  order  a  cart-load  of  them  daily 
to  the  hotel." 

"  I  should  die  of  sweets  like  a  fly  in  honey.  But 
you  may  give  me  every  day,  with  your  own  hand,  a 
spray  like  this,  and  I  will  promise  to  wear  nobody 
else's  flowers." 

"Polly,  what  do  you  mean  by  being  so  adorable?" 
he  cried,  taking  the  hand  that  lay  upon  his  arm. 

"I  '11  tell  you  some  other  time,"  she  said,  drawing 


AN  EREANT  WOOING  133 

her  fingers  sharply  out  of  his.  In  spite  of  herself, 
his  touch  troubled,  offended  her. 

"  You  asked  me  a  question,"  he  resumed,  trying  to 
cover  his  mortification.  "I  do  think  Miss  Gilchrist 
improved.  I  may  say  I  never  saw  such  a  magnifi- 
cent young  girl." 

"Is  n't  she?"  said  Polly,  generously.  "You  can't 
imagine  what  a  little  insignificant  thing  I  feel  beside 
her.  She  is  almost  as  tall  as  you." 

"  She  is  charming  in  her  vigor,  her  simplicity,  her 
utter  freedom  from  conventional  fripperies.  I  think 
she  gets  that  from  her  father;  for  he  too  is  cast  in 
a  big  mold.  It  is  nice  that  you  have  met  them, 
Paulina.  You  needed  a  girl-friend;  and,  if  my  in- 
tuitions are  right,  Miss  Gilchrist  is  of  all  girls  the 
one  I  should  choose  to  do  you  good." 

"Well  done,  Roger!  "When  you  praise,  you  are 
not  begrudging." 

"  Did  you  observe  what  a  strong  fancy  our  grand- 
father took  to  Gilchrist?"  went  on  Roger.  "This 
morning  he  was  vituperating  the  whole  English  na- 
tion, and  after  two  minutes'  talk  with  Sir  Piers  he 
agreed  to  an  excursion  with  them  to-morrow,  in  his 
most  hearty  fashion.  Bless  the  dear  old  fellow !  He 
has  no  idea  what  a  bundle  of  inconsistencies  he  is. 
As  to  Aunt  Rose,  she,  like  everybody  else,  has  bowed 
to  and  worshiped  the  all-conquering  baronet." 

"Not  everybody,  Roger,"  said  Paulina,  nestling  a 
little  to  his  arm.  "I  don't  lose  my  head  because 
a  great  golden-haired,  blue-eyed  man  comes  riding 
down  the  Soko  in  the  midst  of  those  dirty  camel-col- 
ored natives,  do  I  ?  And  you  won't  forget  the  orange- 


134  AN  EKRANT  WOOING 

blossoms,  Roger,  every  day  ?  And  when  we  go  to  the 
country  to-morrow,  you  are  to  keep  by  me — you  hear?" 

Hadji  turned,  and  marshaled  his  party  up  the 
outer  steps  leading  to  a  doorway  around  which  slip- 
pers of  all  grades  clustered.  They  found  within  it  a 
clean,  well- ventilated  room,  dadoed  with  matting  hav- 
ing a  border  of  dried  rice  and  grasses,  and  supported 
by  pillars  set  with  blue  and  yellow  azulejos.  On  a 
shelf  above  the  dado  were  ranged  plaques  and  jars 
of  native  pottery,  full  of  dried  grass  and  seed-pods. 
Over  these  again  were  maps  of  Africa  and  of  the  In- 
dian Ocean,  a  clock,  and  various  bits  of  beaten  brass 
and  Moorish  faience.  On  the  matted  floors  sat  a 
number  of  men  smoking  pipes  and  cigarettes,  the  un- 
married distinguished  by  the  fez,  and  all  engaged  in 
playing  chess,  cards,  or  checkers. 

To  one  side,  in  a  division  made  by  boards,  were  the 
musicians:  two  violins,  two  guitars,  a  little  mother- 
of-pearl  fiddle  with  two  strings,  two  tambourines, 
two  men  to  clap  hands  and  mark  the  time.  A  fine, 
strong-featured  set,  the  members  of  this  orchestra, 
preserving  perfect  dignity  of  manner;  and  during 
the  evening  they  furnished  a  liberal  supply  of  their 
characteristic  music,  accompanied  by  the  slightly 
nasal  chanting  of  which  it  is  possible  in  a  short  time 
to  have  enough. 

On  benches  running  around  the  walls  were  placed 
the  lookers-on  from  the  hotels  and  elsewhere,  at 
whose  beck  barelegged  waiters  ran  hither  and  thither, 
carrying  the  tin  tripods  upon  which  was  served  black 
Turkish  coffee,  made  from  the  berry  crushed  between 
two  primitive  stones. 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  135 

In  a  corner  beneath  the  open  window  the  Gilchrists 
had  saved  places  for  Polly  and  Roger,  who  enjoyed 
the  arrival,  directly  after  theirs,  of  the  valet,  Mr. 
Wilcox,  looking  determinedly  rakish,  until,  at  the  un- 
expected sight  of  his  employers,  he  became  painfully 
proper  in  a  flash. 

"  I  want  to  make  a  memorandum  of  these  musical 
instruments  for  my  grandfather,  who  has  a  little  col- 
lection of  his  own,"  said  Paulina  to  Gilchrist.  "  Have 
you  a  pencil  and  a  bit  of  paper  ?  Anything  will  do. 
Don't  tear  your  note-book." 

Sir  Piers  persisted,  however,  and  a  leaf  from  the 
book  was  given  her  with  its  accompanying  pencil. 

"Take  care,"  he  said,  "lest  they  suspect  you  of 
making  a  sketch  of  them,  which  is  an  unpardonable 
offense  to  their  religion." 

And,  truly,  a  grave  violinist  had  already  taken  ob- 
servation of  the  young  stranger,  and  was  shaking 
his  head  at  her  with  a  dark  frown.  Quickly  Pau- 
lina held  up  her  bit  of  paper,  exhibiting  her  writing, 
and  as  quickly  the  Moor  flashed  back  at  her  his 
white  teeth  in  a  smile  of  apology,  laying  his  hand 
upon  his  heart  with  the  charming  gesture  so  com- 
mon to  his  race. 

"Oh,  see!"  said  Polly.  "You  had  drawn  something 
on  the  other  side.  Luckily,  I  did  not  show  him  that." 

"  Give  it  to  me  back,"  he  answered,  after  bestowing 
on  it  a  glance,  "  and  I  '11  surrender  to  you  any  other 
leaf  you  may  select." 

Polly,  trying  to  make  believe  she  had  not  seen,  did 
as  he  asked  her ;  but  she  had  recognized  the  outline 
and  attitude  of  her  own  figure,  as  in  her  sketch  of 


136  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

the  Pheasants'  "Walk  —  only  in  this  the  girl's  hand 
held  a  heart  with  an  arrow  piercing  it. 

"  It  reminds  me  of  something  for  which  I  never 
thanked  you,"  she  said  impulsively. 

"  This  is  only  an  illustration  for  some  vers  de  societe," 
he  replied  lightly ;  and  Polly  felt  ready  to  bite  her 
tongue  for  having  allowed  herself  to  be  repulsed. 

"  You  would  not  have  supposed  me  to  be  such  a 
jessamy  kind  of  fellow,  would  you?"  he  went  on. 
"But  in  my  nomadic  life  I  must  find  diversion  as 
I  can.  To-morrow,  when  you  get  outside  the  town, 
you  'II  understand  that  here  we  leave  behind  the  rules 
that  bind  ordinary  mortals,  and  behave  as  if  in  the 
region  of  eternal  sentiment.  Have  you  had  enough 
of  this  ?  I  am  sure  May  has,  and  so  we  '11  meet  to- 
morrow in  a  better  atmosphere.  I  must  make  the 
most  of  our  pleasant  rencontre,  for  Thursday  we  go 
back  to  Gib." 

"  So  soon  ? "  she  asked,  unconscious  of  her  depth 
of  expression  in  look  and  tone. 

"  Our  outing  in  Morocco  finishes  as  yours  begins. 
Maybe  you  will  look  in  upon  my  pied-a-terre  at  Gra- 
nada, if  you  come  there,  and  if  you  remember  it.  But 
we  shall  soon  be  wending  our  way  to  Seville  for  Holy 
Week,  like  everybody  else." 

"  Shall  you  ?  Did  you  know  that  Lucy  Blount,  who 
has  been  ill  of  influenza  and  was  ordered  to  Biarritz, 
wrote,  before  we  left  home,  urging  us  to  meet  her  in 
Seville  at  Easter  ? " 

"  Then  I  advise  you  by  all  means  to  do  so.  The 
religious  processions  are  fine,  and  the  wailing  of  the 
bands  that  accompany  them  is,  of  itself,  worth  the 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  137 

journey.  You,  who  are  so  sensitive  to  music  of  that 
kind,  should  not  miss  the  thrill  it  will  give  you." 

"How  do  you  know  I  am  sensitive  to  music  of 
that  kind?" 

"  There !  The  cat  jumped,  did  n't  she  ?  Turn  your 
memory  back  to  a  dolefully  rainy  Sunday  last  spring, 
when  a  young  girl  sat  in  one  of  the  stalls  in  the 
choir  of  King's  College  Chapel  at  Cambridge,  with 
a  score  upon  her  knee,  and  alternately  followed  the 
singing  and  looked  up  at  the  vault  over  her  head." 

"Were  you  there?" 

"I  stopped  over  Sunday,  on  my  way  to  "Wooton 
Magna,  to  let  May  see  my  alma  mater  and  hear  its 
choir  at  evening  service." 

"  So  that  is  your  college  ?  Oh !  I'm  glad,  I  'm  glad ! " 

"  I  'm  glad  also,  if  it  brings  such  a  note  of  approval 
into  your  voice.  "When  I  saw  you  again  at  Lady  Ed- 
mund's, it  was  like  an  answer  to  my  thoughts." 

The  monotonous  music,  the  whining  chant,  went 
on.  The  odors  of  coffee  and  Turkish  tobacco  drifted 
out  over  their  heads  through  the  lattice,  in  at  which 
looked  the  bright  African  stars.  But  Paulina's  spirit 
had  flown  back  to  green  England;  and,  as  Gilchrist 
watched  her,  a  mighty  conviction  that  this  woman  or 
no  other  was  nature's  mate  for  him  came  again  into 
the  citadel  whence  he  had  once  dislodged  it.  Just 
then  he  noticed  that  with  one  of  her  rapid  movements 
she  had  let  fall  something  upon  the  floor ;  and,  stoop- 
ing, he  picked  up  the  spray  of  orange-flowers  she  had 
been  wearing  at  her  breast. 

At  once  a  chill  was  upon  him,  and  was  evident  in 
his  voice. 


138  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"  This  is  yours,  is  n't  it?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Polly,  awe  creeping  into  her  tones. 
"It  is  mine,  of  course.  I  suppose  you  know  that 
I  am  —  I  am  — " 

She  glanced  furtively  around  at  Roger.  He  was 
carving  a  date  with  his  penknife  upon  the  long  staff 
May  carried  as  an  aid  in  walking,  while  May  looked 
on  laughing. 

"I  am  —  oh!"  Polly  went  on,  bravely  swallowing 
her  distaste  —  "I  am  to  be  married  in  the  autumn." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  he  answered  awkwardly  ;  and  poor 
Polly  felt  that  the  light  of  the  universe  had  gone 
out  for  her.  England,  Africa,  America,  it  was  all 
one!  There  would  never  be  anything  but  duty  to 
live  for,  after  this. 


IX 


THINK,  if  you  will  be  so  kind  as 
to  take  my  daughter  in  charge," 
said  Mrs.  Standish  to  Sir  Piers  Gil- 
christ  ou  the  day  following  Pau- 
lina's visit  to  the  cafe  chantant,  "  I 
should  be  better  satisfied  to  remain 
with  my  father  to-day,  and  let  you  chaperon  the 
young  people." 

"But,  mama,  grandpapa  promised  to  go  on  this 
expedition,"  cried  Paulina,  hastily  ignoring  Gilchrist's 
half-quizzical  assent. 

"  You  know,  my  dear,  grandpapa  must  not  be  per- 
mitted to  do  all  he  thinks  he  can  do ;  and  I  intend  to 
take  him,  a  little  later,  for  a  nice,  quiet  ride  of  an 
hour  or  so  outside  the  town,  with  the  courier  and 
Wilcox  to  look  after  us.  Sir  Piers,  having  his  own 
daughter,  will  perhaps  not  mind  being  troubled  with 
the  care  of  another  young  lady.  You  will  find  Pau- 
lina very  obedient,  Sir  Piers,  for  all  she  pretends  to 
be  bent  on  having  her  own  way  5  and  if  you  see  her 
inclined  to  do  anything  reckless  about  her  health,  or 
venturesome,  I  rely  on  you  to  check  her ;  and  I  am 
quite  sure  she  will  show  you  the  deference  she  might 
not  extend  to  Roger.  She  is  a  little  given  to  teasing 

139 


140  AN  ERKANT  WOOING 

Roger,  and  in  this  wild  country  I  'd  be  better  satisfied 
if  she  'd  promise  to  stay  by  you.  Now,  Polly,  don't 
remonstrate.  I  do  not  often  make  a  point,  but  I  ex- 
pect in  this  to  be  obeyed.  If  you  took  it  into  your 
head  to  do  anything  rash,  Roger  would  feel  obliged 
to  follow,  so  it  is  better  to  let  him  ride  with  Miss  Gil- 
christ,  who  is  experienced  in  this  sort  of  thing,  and, 
as  I  sa}',  let  Sir  Piers,  if  he  really  does  n't  mind,  keep 
by  you." 

"  I  really  don't  mind,"  said  Gilchrist,  not  venturing 
to  look  at  Polly,  as  her  mama  paused  to  take  breath. 

He  put  her  upon  the  horse  he  had  himself  secured, 
which,  with  an  English  saddle,  promised  a  day  of 
comfort. 

"  I  hope  I  can  live  up  to  your  good  mother's  con- 
ception of  my  age  and  dignity,"  he  observed,  while 
tightening  the  girth. 

"It  is  fate,  fate,"  Paulina  said  to  herself,  trying  to 
keep  down  the  triumph  that  lent  luster  to  her  face. 
Gilchrist,  bidding  May  and  Roger  follow,  led  the  way 
with  her  to  the  beach  at  the  southeast  of  the  town, 
keeping  the  track  along  a  sandy  coast,  where  gray, 
leafless  bushes,  with  long  branches  like  whip-cord, 
waved  in  a  light  sea-breeze.  Seen  thence,  at  every 
turn,  bay  and  mountains  took  on  some  new  combina- 
tion of  beauty  to  witch  the  gaze. 

No  fair-minded  man  could,  in  like  circumstances, 
discern  in  a  woman's  eyes  what  ingenuous  Polly  let 
Gilchrist  see  in  hers  without  deriving  from  it  food 
for  grave  reflection.  On  parting  from  her  the  night 
before,  he  had  gone  back  to  his  lodgings,  determined, 
for  her  sake,  to  trifle  no  more  with  the  perilous 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  141 

charm  of  her  society.  And  yet  to-day  chance  had 
thrown  them  together,  to  be  for  hours  almost  alone 
in  an  Eden  of  bloom  and  brightness.  She  looked 
such  a  pretty,  helpless  thing,  in  her  shirt  of  poppy- 
red  silk  and  her  short,  dark  skirt,  riding  bareheaded, 
as  she  preferred  to  do,  her  hat  hanging  to  her  pom- 
mel, her  happy  face  turned  on  him,  her  slight  figure 
swaying  toward  him  involuntarily  as  they  talked. 
He  was  enchanted  anew  with  her  innocent  wiles,  her 
saucy  rejoinders,  her  self-possession  backed  by  timid- 
ity. But  he  resolved  to  put  a  stronger  curb  upon 
himself  and  guard  her  against  herself,  like  the  honest 
gentleman  he  was. 

"  THEY  have  got  quite  away  from  us ! "  exclaimed 
May,  suddenly  aware  that  during  her  long  talk  with 
the  young  American  their  horses  had  been  plodding 
with  loosened  reins.  "  But  I  've  been  so  interested  in 
what  you  were  telling  me !  Ever  since  I  was  a  child, 
your  great,  boundless  country  has  been  a  wonder  to 
me.  I  like  large  rooms  and  houses,  and  empty 
spaces,  and  great  rivers  and  mountains  and  forests 
and  plains.  Even  here,  in  Morocco,  where  I  thought 
I  was  going  to  see  a  country  not  crowded  like  the 
rest,  Piers  and  I  have  come  on  so  many  miserable 
people  huddled  together,  it  seems  as  if  we  could  not 
get  out  of  the  way  of  over-population." 

"You  must  make  haste  to  visit  America,  then,"  he 
said,  laughing.  "In  a  few  years  it  will  be  filled  with 
cities  of  twenty-story  buildings,  and  electric  lights, 
and  cable-cars.  Do  you  know  that  we  have  nearly 
eight  and  a  quarter  millions  of  men  available  for 


142  AN  EREANT   WOOING 

military  duty,  in  the  United  States  ?  I  wish  you  could 
induce  Sir  Piers  to  bring  you  over  to  see  our  Exposi- 
tion in  Chicago  this  summer,  and,  after  that,  to  make 
me  a  visit  at  my  ranch." 

"That  would  be  too  delightful,"  she  exclaimed, 
with  a  flushing  face. 

"To  let  you  into  a  little  secret,  I  cannot  induce 
Paulina  to  take  more  than  a  perfunctory  interest  in 
any  of  those  things.  She  would  fire  up  and  declare 
herself  immensely  patriotic  if  any  one  pulled  a  fea- 
ther out  of  the  American  eagle's  tail ;  but  she  is  an 
old-rock  New-Yorker,  and  if  you  knew  us  a  little 
better  you  would  understand  what  that  means  — 
kind  to  the  rest  of  our  country,  but  indifferent 
withal." 

"And  yet  she  seems  to  me — what  shall  I  say? — 
romantic." 

"About  nature  entirely  so,  but  not  about  American 
society.  Like  a  great  many  others  she  cannot  look 
above  the  crude,  hard  vulgarity  of  its  foundations, 
at  the  beautiful  original  structure  that  is  rising  to 
cleave  the  skies.  And  she  cannot  see  that  the  people 
who  have  drifted  out  of  older  civilizations  to  help  in 
the  shaping  of  ours  are  of  endless  variety  and  pic- 
turesqueness.  I  don't  mean  in  New  York,  mind  you. 
After  living  as  I  have  done  for  some  years,  from 
choice,  in  the  freer  western  world,  I  myself  do  not 
admire  New  York ;  and  I  dread  going  back  to  estab- 
lish myself  in  one  of  the  little  social  pens  they  erect 
there  in  which  to  isolate  themselves  from  suspicion  of 
being  too  intimate  with  one  another.  For  the  society 
of  the  old  countries  this  has  been  done  and  handed 


AN  ERRANT   WOOING  143 

down.  In  our  metropolis,  where  all  begin  pretty 
much  on  the  same  level,  and  scramble  up  more  or 
less  rapidly,  it  seems  to  me  laughable  to  draw  such 
lines.  But  I  don't  venture  these  remarks  before  Mrs. 
Standish,  you  '11  observe.  My  good  aunt  is  a  con- 
servative ;  'and  when  I  shake  this  sort  of  a  little  red 
rag  before  her,  she  thinks  anarchy  is  in  the  wind." 

"  I  can't  conceive  of  caring  for  the  things  so  many 
Americans  lay  stress  upon.  To  me,  if  a  man  or 
woman  tries  to  live  his  or  her  own  life  consistently, 
wherever  it  is  cast,  the  rest  is  nothing.  One  can  al- 
ways find  people  to  interest  one,  and  that  is  enough." 

"  You  would  think  so  if  you  met  the  queer  charac- 
ters I  live  among.  Not  to  speak  of  the  '  wash-lady/ — 
who  rides  to  us  on  horseback,  dressed  in  a  green  vel- 
vet habit  with  gold  buttons,  and  always  presides  at 
our  table  during  her  stay, —  there  are  men  as  full  of 
quaint  talk  and  real  sentiment  as  any  I  ever  met  at 
Eastern  dinner-tables.  This  'Judge'  Treat,  for  in- 
stance, at  whom  my  cousin  turns  up  her  little  nose  as 
an  impossible  associate,  is  many  times  a  millionaire, 
a  large  holder  of  government  securities,  a  bank  presi- 
dent, and  has  been  United  States  senator.  But  com- 
paratively few  years  ago  he  was  wandering  over  the 
Montana  hills,  almost  penniless,  searching  for  '  pros- 
pects.' One  day  he  found  in  an  old  forsaken  gulch 
a  bit  of  gold  quartz  '  float '  which  had  been  washed 
from  the  parent  lode  perhaps  centuries  before.  Fol- 
lowing this  up,  he  came  on  another  spark  of  gold, 
and  after  a  search  of  days  struck  his  victorious  pick 
into  the  shoot  of  ore  that  was  to  make  his  everlasting 
fortune.  The  great  point  about  Treat  is  his  tenacity. 


144  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

Single-handed,  he  dug  the  tunnel  in  the  mountain- 
side that  led  finally  to  a  splendid  mine  of  gold-pro- 
ducing quartz.  Then  riches  and  influence,  and  power 
like  that  of  a  great  prince,  came  to  him  easily.  He 
married  a  little  Dame  Trot  of  a  woman,  who  does 
not  know  how  to  spend  his  money,  but  has  feeble 
ambitions  to  do  things  like  '  everybody  else.'  Hence 
their  journeys  abroad.  This  is  the  second,  I  believe, 
and  he,  poor  man,  is  already  bored  to  extinction." 

"  I  saw  your  cousin  go  over  and  speak  to  the  poor 
lady,  and  advise  her  about  her  crochet." 

"Oh,  yes;  Polly  is  capable  of  any  sacrifice  for 
kindness.  But  she  is  too  near  to  such  people,  sees 
too  many  of  them,  to  appreciate  their  picturesque- 
ness.  No ;  I  take  that  back.  Even  I  can't  see  any- 
thing picturesque  about  Mrs.  Treat.  In  our  country, 
Miss  Gilchrist,  men  preserve  their  original  broad  out- 
lines long  after  their  wives  have  become  contorted 
with  borrowed  airs  and  pretensions." 

"My  aunt  told  me  she  had  heard  that,  when  they 
stay  in  America,  American  ladies  all  sit  in  rocking- 
chairs  in  boarding-houses  because  they  find  it  too 
much  trouble  to  manage  'help'  in  their  own  homes; 
and  let  their  husbands  work  in  the  city  for  the  money 
the  wives  are  to  spend  '  traveling  in  Europe.' " 

"I  don't  know  about  the  rocking-chairs,  and  I  must 
deny  the  exploded  boarding-houses ;  but  there  is  no 
doubt  my  countrymen  are  inclined  to  make  figure- 
heads of  their  charming  wives." 

"  You  contradict  yourself,  don't  you  ?  Just  now 
you  said  they  are  airy  and  pretentious." 

"  If  I  did,  I  have  been  recreant  to  the  fair  female 


THE    MAIN    STREET    OF   TANGIER. 


AN  EREANT   WOOING  145 

who  is  our  national  badge  and  pride,"  he  replied. 
"May  my 'right  hand  forget  the  very  little  cunning 
it  possesses!  I  was  thinking  of  the  large  class  of 
more  or  less  developed  Mrs.  Treats.  Take  my  cousin 
for  a  sample  of  our  best." 

"  How  shall  you  ever  be  able  to  induce  her  to  like 
the  way  you  live  ? " 

"  Unfortunately,  Paulina  and  I  are  to  come  into 
conventional  bonds  long  ago  laid  out  for  us.  Our 
grandfather  has  exacted  of  me  that  on  my  marriage 
I  shall  live  near  him  in  New  York,  and  assume  the 
charge  of  his  estate,  which  will  at  least  give  me  occu- 
pation. Before  we  join  the  others,  Miss  Gilchrist,  I 
want  you  to  tell  me  why  you  have  never  vouchsafed 
to  say  you  were  sorry  to  miss  my  call  in  London  last 
spring,  just  before  I  sailed  for  home." 

"  Your  call  ?  "  she  asked,  confused. 

"I  left  two  cards  at  Lady  "Watson-Jones's  house 
in  Bryanstone  Square  when  told  by  the  servant  that 
you  had  just  gone  out  to  drive  with  your  aunt.  To 
own  the  truth,  when  I  met  you  again  here,  and  you 
said  nothing  whatever  about  that  visit,  I  was  inclined 
to  be  miffed.  An  American  girl  would  have  begun  by 
saying,  with  the  most  gracious  emphasis,  'You  don't 
know  how  sorry  I  was  to  miss  you,  Mr.  "Woodbury '" 

"  If  I  said  that  to  almost  a  stranger,"  May  replied, 
looking  at  him  with  candid  eyes,  "I  should  have  to 
mean  it  thoroughly." 

"Then  take  a  smart  London  girl,  such  as  I  have 
danced  with   and  knocked  about  with  in  the  sea- 
son.    Even  she  would  have  said  something  nice  and 
chummy,  and  suggestive  of  widening  horizons." 
10 


146  AN  ERRANT   WOOING 

"You  are  laughing  at  me.  Are  Americans  never 
serious?  I  did  not  hear  of  your  visit.7' 

"Then,  Lady  Watson- Jones,  I  may  lay  this  to 
your  door,"  he  said.  "  Do  you  not  think,  Miss  Gil- 
christ,  that  your  aunt's  prejudice  against  iny  coun- 
trymen may  be  safely  said  to  lie  behind  the  failure 
of  my  card  to  reach  your  hands?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  faltered,  genuinely  distressed. 
"  Yes  j  I  should  tell  you  that  you  are  right  in  think- 
ing my  aunt  does  not  quite  understand  your  country- 
men. She  has  a  queer  idea  they  are  all  alike." 

"  She  thinks,  with  Andrew  Lang,  that  '  what  makes 
one  New-Yorker  better  than  another  is  so  incon- 
spicuous.' " 

"  Forgive  me  if  I  said  anything  you  fancy  unkind. 
I  hope,  if  you  have  a  chance  to  come  to  see  us  in 
Granada,  you  will  let  my  father  make  you  welcome." 

"Have  I  forgotten  the  hospitality  of  the  dower- 
house  ?  Pray  count  on  me  not  to  suffer  from  Lady 
"Watson-Jones's  misapprehension,  so  long  as  you  and 
Sir  Piers  are  so  kind  to  me.  See,  they  are  stopping 
at  an  old  bridge.  Shall  we  make  a  little  speed  to 
join  them?" 

"  This  is  a  jolly  old  relic  of  the  Eomans,  is  n't  it?" 
said  Gilchrist,  as  they  rode  up.  "  How  abundantly 
they  left  their  trace  in  these  Southern  countries! 
"When  you  go  to  Seville,  miss  anything  rather  than 
Italica,  and  let  me  be  your  guide  there.  Now  we  '11 
strike  inland,  and  show  Miss  Staudish  what  she  says 
she  has  never  seen  —  enough  flowers  to  satisfy  her 
love  for  them." 

The  path  into  which  they  turned,  aiming  for  higher 


AN  ERRANT   WOOING  147 

ground,  was  a  mere  cattle-track  passing  some  of  the 
market-gardens  which  in  these  environs  supply  suc- 
culent delicacies  to  the  garrison  and  town  of  rock- 
bound  Gibraltar,  and  coming  out  into  a  region  laugh- 
ing with  fields  of  young  wheat  and  barley. 

Few  trees  were  in  sight,  thanks  to  the  herdsmen 
who  for  generations  had  been  burning  out  the  un- 
derbrush to  secure  pasture  for  their  goats;  but  of 
lesser  vegetation  there  was  an  extraordinary  wealth : 
grass,  vines,  shrubs,  flowers,  heather  in  golden  masses. 

At  one  point  they  rode  through  a  sandy  lane  bor- 
dered with  thorn-hedges  over  which  the  eglantine  and 
honeysuckle  of  their  own  native  wilds  had  thrown 
flowery  arms.  On  the  right,  behind  an  inclosure  of 
agaves,  was  a  cluster  of  gray  huts  like  hornets'  nests, 
whence  a  band  of  fascinating  little  Arab  children, 
dressed  in  robes  of  blue  and  yellow  and  crimson, 
came  running  pell-mell  to  peer  through  the  prickly 
barrier. 

To  the  left  —  strange  contrast!  —  was  a  settlement 
of  humble  Spanish  homes,  with  white  walls,  and  roofs 
of  fluted  tiles,  their  open  doors  giving  a  glimpse  of 
patios  with  fountains  and  orange-trees. 

And  now,  leaving  the  town,  the  sea-views,  and  the 
villas,  they  had  pushed  on  into  the  new  world  of 
emerald  hills,  girdled  with  belts  of  wild  flowers,  va- 
ried by  acres  of  incense-breathing  heather. 

Above,  mountains — everywhere,  mountains!  Peak 
and  scar  and  cliff  and  shoulder  of  gray  basalt  rising 
out  of  the  green  valleys,  and  massed  with  indescrib- 
able beauty  and  variety  under  a  dazzling  sun.  So 
clear  the  air,  dots  on  the  farthest  hillsides  could  be 


148  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

seen  to  be  nibbling  sheep.  Through  the  sea  of  green 
ahead,  the  last  of  a  camel-train  vanished  as  they 
watched  it;  and,  after  that,  all  was  solitude  and 
flowers. 

In  this  largess  of  nature  to  Moorish  wilds,  they 
distinguished  marguerites,  iris,  asphodel,  j^ellow  and 
blue  lupine,  anemones,  crimson  Adonis,  lavender,  a 
pale-blue  daisy,  orange  marigolds,  vetches,  borage 
and  trefoil,  cistus  and  white  convolvulus,  and  many 
another  of  name  unknown  save  to  the  botanist. 

These  sprang  in  the  grass  so  close  together  that 
their  blossoms  overlapped.  They  sent  up  into  the 
mild,  pure  air  a  fragrance  gently  intoxicating.  The 
feet  of  the  horses  trod  them  down,  but  immediately 
they  arose  elastic. 

And,  that  the  flowery  desert  might  not  be  without 
animated  life,  in  and  out  of  its  balmy  recesses  flut- 
tered and  twinkled  an  infinitude  of  butterflies  and 
tinier  winged  jewels  of  the  air.  A  stork  was  seen, 
and  crows  and  swallows ;  and  yonder,  king  of  all,  an 
eagle  sailing  to  the  heights  of  Atlas. 

"  No  one  who  has  not  breathed  it  in  camping  can 
understand  the  peculiar  quality  of  this  air,"  said  Gil- 
christ,  as  they  drew  rein  to  let  the  horses  drink  at 
a  little  spring  welling  among  cress  and  myosotis. 
"  When  I  am  alone,  shooting  and  exploring,  I  am  in 
a  species  of  cerebral  excitement,  and  rather  enjoy 
having  only  my  natives  around  me.  May  can  tell 
you  of  her  rides  farther  into  the  interior,  and  of  the 
prevailing  monotony  of  this  redundant  bloom." 

"It  needed  just  this,"  cried  Polly,  as,  appearing 
from  behind  some  bushes  where  she  had  apparently 


AN  ERRANT   WOOING  149 

been  resting,  a  small,  white  figure  passed  near  them, 
walking  rapidly. 

To  Paulina's  delight,  it  was  the  little  maiden  with 
sloe-black  eyes  to  whom  she  had  given  silver  in  the 
market-place  the  day  before,  now  returning — and 
happily  without  her  chicken  —  to  her  distant  home ; 
as  fearless  as  Una,  crossing  the  flowery  mead  under 
the  shelter  of  the  grim,  gray  rocks. 

"Come  here,  you  delightful  little  person,"  called 
Paulina.  "Roger,  some  money,  please.  All  the 
silver  pieces  you  have.  I  want  to  be  an  epoch  in  her 
life.  I  want  her  to  tell  her  grandchildren  about  me." 

But  Roger  was  begrudging,  and  a  single  Spanish 
dollar  produced  by  him  was  transferred  by  Polly 
into  the  little  Moorish  paw.  In  her  awe  and  wonder, 
the  child,  who  had  not  seen  the  transaction  between 
the  cousins,  chose  to  associate  Polly  with  Gilchrist ; 
and,  after  kissing  the  hand  of  her  benefactress,  flew 
to  kiss  his,  pouring  out  a  flood  of  grateful  words 
while  looking  from  one  to  the  other  with  exceeding 
grace  and  archness. 

Gilchrist,  laughing,  answered  her  in  Arabic,  and 
with  a  final  smile  the  little  creature  sped  away  across 
the  plain. 

"  "What  did  you  say  to  her  ? "  queried  Paulina,  with 
curiosity. 

"Nothing,  but  to  disavow  certain  honors  thrust  on 
me,"  he  said  in  a  tone  meant  for  her  ear  only.  "  If 
Woodbury  understood  Arabic,  he  might  cherish  a 
grudge  against  me;  but  as  it  is,  I  '11  say  nought, 
and  we  will  let  your  fleet  gazel  carry  her  hallucina- 
tions to  her  mountain  home." 


150  AN  EREANT  WOOING 

Was  Polly  mistaken,  or  did  a  sigh  exhale  with  this 
speech,  begun  so  lightly  ? 

"  She  is  only  a  little  ignorant  chicken-girl,"  she  said 
rather  defiantly.  "  One  person  is  just  like  another  to 
her." 

"  No  doubt.  What  I  like  in  you  are  those  sudden 
dashes  into  tenderness  about  trifles,  and  your  at- 
tempts to  prove  that  you  did  not  mean  them." 

"  I  won't  have  you  analyzing  my  character,  away 
off  in  these  desert  wilds — or  at  all,  indeed !  It  is  very 
presumptuous.  Tell  me  what  sort  of  home  our — that 
little  footpad  is  going  back  to.  What  is  her  future  ? " 

"Dreary  enough.  The  youth  of  these  women  is 
brief,  like  their  spring;  and  after  it  they  toil  in 
degradation  till  they  die.  I  suppose  the  position  of 
a  woman  is  nowhere  worse  than  in  this  beautiful 
barbaric  land.  When  she  is  born,  she  is  a  curse 
upon  her  family ;  and  as  a  wife  and  mother  her  rat- 
ing is  deplorable.  Don't  think  of  what  your  protegee 
will  be  ten  years  hence.  It  will  not  make  you  happy. 
The  only  woman  who  has  any  position  in  the  Mogreb 
empire  is  the  Shereefa,  who  is  away  from  Tangier 
just  now.  May  took  tea  with  her  a  few  days  ago, 
and  found  her  an  agreeable,  commanding  woman, 
wearing  her  high  rank  as  if  born  to  it.  Miss  Keene 
was  an  English  governess  in  the  family  of  the  British 
minister  here  when  the  late  Shereef  fell  romantically 
in  love  with  her.  He  had  been  in  England,  France, 
Italy,  and  other  countries,  and  was  extremely  fin-de- 
si&cle  for  Morocco.  She  married  him  ;  and  their  two 
sons,  lineal  descendants  of  the  Prophet,  are  very  fine 
fellows.  The  present  Shereef  is  said  to  have  second 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  151 

sight,  or  to  be  a  mind-reader,  or  something  of  the 
kind.  By  the  way,  I  have  always  meant  to  apologize 
to  you  for  getting  you  mixed  up  with  that  mind- 
reading  business  at  Wooton  Magna.  I  hope  it  did 
not  annoy  you." 

"  No,"  replied  Polly,  briefly,  as  they  rode  treading 
out  the  life-blood  of  a  bed  of  large  red  anemones. 

"  I  would  have  apologized  then,  but  there  seemed 
so  little  to  excuse  my  cheek  in  dragging  you  into  the 
mental  vagaries  that  confounded  eery  woman  got  at 
so  cleverly." 

"  It  seems  to  me  we  do  nothing  but  return  to  back 
chapters,"  she  said,  for  want  of  anything  better  to 
bridge  the  silence. 

"And  yet  our  actual  acquaintance  could  be  num- 
bered by  days.  May  ! "  he  called  out  to  his  daugh- 
ter, now  ahead,  "take  the  path  beyond,  to  the  left. 
I  have  ordered  luncheon  to  meet  us  in  the  orange- 
grove  of  a  good  old  Moorish  friend  of  mine,  who  has 
no  objections  to  our  taking  him  by  storm;  and  we 
shall  call  afterward  at  a  couple  of  villas,  in  order  to 
show  our  American  young  lady  how  we  do  things  in 
Tangier." 

"  How  very  kind  ! "  said  Polly.  "  But  you  need 
not  expect  me  to  find  anything  more  to  my  taste 
than  that  lonely  valley  where  the  flowers  blazed  and 
the  sun  blazed  back  at  them.  Dear  me !  How  are 
the  horses  expected  to  get  down  into  this  ravine? 
To  let  themselves  go,  and  roll  down,  I  suppose  —  we 
after  them?" 

"Follow  May.  She  is  an  expert,  and  absolutely 
fearless.  There !  You  are  safe,  are  n't  you  ? "  as,  at 


152  AN   EEEANT  WOOING 

the  foot  of  a  perilous  decline,  Polly  looked  back  at  the 
cliff  down  which  the  sure-footed  beasts  had  slipped 
and  scrambled. 

"  I  've  done  as  much  in  Switzerland  and  the  Tyrol, 
and  in  the  Yellowstone,"  she  said;  "but,  here,  there 
is  no  such  thing  as  a  choice  between  roads  or  paths ; 
one  may  plunge  anywhere  into  a  river,  or  else  go  on 
forever  over  green  slopes.  I  don't  know  in  the  least 
where  we  are,  how  we  came  here,  or  whither  we  are 
bound." 

"I  am  too  familiar  with  the  country  to  lead  you 
astray.  Gather  up  your  feet  as  May  does,  or  you 
will  get  wet  in  this  stream.  Once  over  it,  and  on  the 
top  of  yonder  bank,  we  follow  a  straight  course  to 
luncheon." 

"  How  proud  you  must  be  of  May !  She  is  a  splen- 
did creature." 

"  I  am,  truly.  At  first,  before  I  reclaimed  her  from 
my  grim-visaged  old  aunt,  who  has  a  conscience  in 
her  way,  and  has  really  taken  good  care  of  my  girl, 
I  dreaded  the  charge  tremendously.  But  May  and  I 
have  hit  it  off  together  famously." 

"  She  tells  me  you  are  mistaken  for  brother  and 
sister  everywhere." 

"  May  likes  to  natter  me,"  he  said.  "  She  has  had 
to  do  so  utterly  without  the  relation  of  a  parent  in 
her  life  that  she  has  finished  by  discarding  it  alto- 
gether. Poor  girl !  I  see  now  what  we  have  both 
lost  by  living  apart.  The  trouble  is,  I  shall  never 
persuade  her  to  go  back  to  England,  and  take  her 
place  in  society  under  the  wing  of  Lady  Watson- 
Jones." 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  153 

"  Oh !  do  you  blame  her  !  "  cried  Polly,  in  heartfelt 
tones. 

"She,  like  me,  loathes  towns,  and  loves  the  free, 
full  air  of  the  country,  and  has  fallen  in  love  with 
our  little  niche  on  the  sierra.  I  talked  with  that 
agreeable  old  gentleman,  your  grandfather,  and  he 
tells  me  he  7s  given  the  courier  orders  to  wire  for 
rooms  at  various  hotels  in  Spain,  including  Seville 
for  Holy  Week." 

"He  told  you?" 

"  This  morning,  at  the  hotel." 

"  How  perfectly  delightful ! "  she  exclaimed,  facing 
him,  with  all  her  ingenuous  soul  in  her  gaze.  "Then, 
when  you  go  to-morrow,  we  shall  not  be  —  I  mean,  I 
shall  see — May — again." 

She  stumbled  in  vain.  He  saw  it  was  not  May, 
but  himself,  Paulina  was  thus  flushed  with  joy  at  the 
thought  of  meeting.  His  heart,  in  a  tumult  of  tender 
satisfaction,  strove  in  vain  to  curb  itself  as  before. 

"Ah,  thank  God!"  he  said  simply;  and  at  that 
moment  Eoger  turned  in  his  saddle  ahead  of  them, 
and,  waving  his  right  arm,  called  back  to  her : 

"  The  sea,  Polly  !  the  sea !  " 

It  was  enough  of  a  reminder.  Paulina,  like  a 
guilty  thing,  rode  on  rapidly,  and,  joining  the  other 
two,  found  herself  on  a  plateau  overlooking  the  bay, 
almost  the  whole  extent  of  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar 
lying  beneath  their  gaze. 

"  Are  n't  you  well,  dear  ? "  said  Eoger,  quickly  es- 
pying the  disturbance  of  her  face,  and  going  around 
to  her  other  side,  while  Sir  Piers,  joining  his  daughter, 
talked  with  her  at  a  little  distance  apart. 


154  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"Roger, — yes,  I  am  feeling  very  well, — tell  me, 
what  is  it  right  to  do?  To  take  the  things  laid  down, 
for  one  by  others,  or  to  choose  for  one's  own  innermost, 
truest,  realest  self — the  self  that  is  just  as  Glod  made 
it,  and  before  the  world  got  hold  of  it  ?  " 

"  What  a  moment  for  psychology  !  Why,  what  an 
intense  little  face  it  is !  Ask  me  when  I  am  more  in 
the  mood  for  that  sort  of  thing,  won't  you?  Just 
now  I  'm  abominably  hungry,  and  can't  lift  my  base 
nature  above  the  pigeon-pie  Miss  Gilchrist  tells  me  is 
ordered  to  meet  us  in  the  garden  of  the  Moor." 

"  Roger,  I  'm  in  earnest ;  and  you  foil  me,  as  you 
always  do ! " 

"  Why,  Polly,  those  are  not  tears  !  What  can  have 
upset  you  ?  Where  is  my  posy,  dear  ?  I  don't  see  it 
in  your  frock." 

"  I  threw  it  down,  and  let  the  horse  walk  on  it ! " 
she  said  fiercely. 

"  You  won't  get  me  to  quarrel,"  her  cousin  replied. 
"By  and  by,  when  this  mood  has  passed,  you  '11 
come  of  your  own  accord  and  tell  me  I  've  done  no- 
thing to  deserve  such  a  look  and  tone  as  that." 

"Oh,  no,  no,  you  have  n't!  I  wish  you  had! 
Roger,  forgive  me  now.  I  'm  the  most  horrid  girl, 
without  an  exception,  that  ever  came  to  Africa  ! " 

"  The  most  darling  girl,"  he  answered  in  a  whisper. 

"  Roger,  I  don't  know  why  you  keep  on  liking  me. 
I  don't  really  believe  you  do;  you  're  only  under  a 
spell.  But  I  've  got  to  be  loved  and  indulged, —  I 
should  die  without  it;  and  as  long  as  you  are  be- 
witched, please  stay  so.  Where  is  that  ring  you  've 
been  carrying  around  in  your  pocket  all  this  long 
time,  till  I  could  make  up  my  mind  to  put  it  on ! " 


AN  ERKANT  WOOING  155 

Roger  had  dismounted,  and  was  standing  close  to 
her,  his  head  on  a  level  with  her  elbow,  the  cool 
breezes  playing  around  them;  below,  the  wide  view 
of  land  and  water.  At  her  behest  he,  smiling  a  little, 
put  his  hand  into  his  inner  coat-pocket,  and  brought 
out  a  case  containing  the  long-neglected  token  of 
their  bond. 

"  Give  it  to  me,"  she  said,  almost  snatching  at  the 
ring,  and  herself  putting  it  upon  her  left  hand,  un- 
gloved for  the  purpose,  with  burning  fingers. 

"There!  At  last  I  have  my — what  is  it  the  cate- 
chism says? — 'outward  and  visible  sign  of  an  in- 
ward and  spiritual  grace.'  This  is  the  cementing  of 
our  engagement,  is  n't  it?  An  odd  time  and  place, 
but  that 's  the  thing  I  like  best  about  it.  Oh,  no ;  I 
don't  mean  that,  exactly.  If  I  wear  your  diamond, 
Roger,  I  '11  excuse  you  from  giving  me  any  more 
nasty  orange-blossoms.  I  do  so  hate  the  smell  of 
them.  I  wonder  if  I  '11  live  to  see  this  ring  sink  down 
into  my  finger,  that  will  be  all  puffy  and  ugly  around 
it,  like  fingers  of  so  many  good  wives  I  've  noticed. 
And  then  I  '11  look  over  and  see  you  broad  and  red 
in  the  face,  reading  the  newspaper,  and  not  listening 
to  me  when  I  say  anything  clever.  And  I  '11  remem- 
ber the  heights  above  Tangier,  where  I  sat  on  horse- 
back, and  seemed  to  feel  the  whole  world  young  and 
at  my  feet,  and  cry  my  eyes  out  because  we  are  old. 
Roger,  don't  look  at  me  with  those  puzzled,  wounded 
eyes.  I  can't  bear  to  feel  that  a  person  is  always  be- 
ing trampled  on  by  me.  I  'd  far  rather  he  'd  trample 
upon  me.  But  that  you  '11  never  do,  I  'm  afraid." 

"  Never,"  said  the  young  man,  steadfastly. 

Paulina,  looking  as  if  she   meant  to  indulge  in 


156  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

a  burst  of  penitence,  here  changed  her  mind  and 
snapped : 

"Now,  I  suppose  we  've  got  to  be  civil  to  these 
English  people.  This  is  an  inconvenient  kind  of  a 
party — two  engaged  lovers  who  want  only  to  look 
into  each  other's  eyes,  and  a  father  and  daughter  who 
naturally  can't  have  too  much  to  talk  to  each  other 
about.  But  married  people  are  worse,  are  n't  they, 
Koger  1  You  always  know  them  in  traveling  because 
they  are  so  mum  and  glum.  I  suppose,  when  they 
are  away  from  home,  she  can't  even  tell  him  the 
coal  is  out,  or  that  the  kitchen  boiler  has  burst.  Sir 
Piers,  please  come  here,  and  tell  me  how  far  we  are 
from  your  pigeon-pie." 

"MY  love,"  remarked  Mrs.  Standish,  who  had 
stepped  into  her  daughter's  room,  that  evening,  to 
chat  during  Polly's  preparations  for  dinner,  "  it  is  so 
nice  to  think  you  have  had  a  happy  and  successful  day." 

"And  you,  mother? "  asked  the  girl,  at  whose  brown 
locks,  hanging  on  her  shoulders,  an  ivory  brush  plied 
by  her  right  hand  made  little  nervous  dabs.  "  I  don't 
think  you  told  me  all  you  did." 

"  No,  dear ;  you  got  in  only  for  tea,  and  there  was 
so  much  to  hear  from  you  and  Roger.  It  is  too  bad 
you  are  to  lose  your  friend,  Miss  Gilchrist,  to-mor- 
row, and  her  father,  so  indulgent  as  he  was  to  you 
girls,  taking  you  to  those  villas,  and  planning  that 
lunch  for  you  under  the  orange-trees.  I  told  him 
we  really  appreciate  his  kindness  to  our  young  peo- 
ple, when  it  must  have  been  something  of  a  sacrifice. 
Men  of  that  age  prefer  older  company,  of  course. 
The  courier  told  us  Sir  Piers  is  a  hero  among  these 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  157 

Arabs  accustomed  to  attend  him  in  his  expeditions. 
He  has  done  all  sorts  of  run-mad  things,  I  call  them, 
and  has  been  in  many  dangerous  situations  with 
lawless  natives;  but  I  should  think,  with  a  grown 
daughter  in  society,  he  must  now  settle  down.  I  hope 
you  did  n't  neglect  to  be  polite  to  him,  my  child. 
Young  people,  when  they  get  together,  are  so  apt 
to  ignore  their  elders." 

"  But  you  have  n't  told  me  what  you  accomplished, 
you  and  grandpapa,  all  by  your  little  selves  in  this 
barbarous  country." 

"  We  rode,  my  love,  on  mules,  and  I  can't  tell  you 
what  the  courier  did  not  insist  upon  our  seeing:  a 
garden  outside  the  town  where  our  conservatory 
flowers  grow  in  hedges  ;  and  a  law-court,  where  your 
grandpapa  was  amused  to  watch  a  cause  argued.  The 
learned  counsel  left  their  slippers  outside,  where  the 
judge  sat  in  a  sort  of  recess  in  a  wall;  and  the  judge 
wrote  notes  or  something,  just  as  I  have  seen  them 
do  in  a  court-room  in  New  York,  while  the  lawyers 
were  speaking.  Then  we  looked  through  a  round 
hole  at  some  prisoners  —  an  awful  sight ;  and  I 
bought  some  of  the  baskets  they  make  and  throw 
out,  for  Justina  to  carry  home  to  her  friends.  Poor 
Justina!  she  is  so  very  dull  here.  I  must  get  a  lot 
of  things  for  Toodles  to-morrow." 

"So  that  was  all?" 

"No.  Did  n't  I  tell  you,  Mrs.  Treat  and  I — she 
is  so  lonesome,  Polly,  I  feel  sorry  for  her,  and  I 
asked  her  to  go  with  me  —  and  Justina  went  —  to 
visit  the  harem  of  the  pasha.  When  I  was  young, 
everybody  read  the  letters  of  Lady  Mary  Wortley 
Montagu  about  her  visits  to  a  harem,  and  I  had  no 


158  AN  EERANT   WOOING 

idea  I  should  ever  be  doing  the  same.  I  was  quite 
excited  as  the  men  led  our  mules  through  those  hor- 
ribly dirty  alleys  that  lead  up  to  it,  full  of  dead  things 
they  had  not  pretended  to  clean  out  of  them.  They 
say  you  must  n't  judge  anything  by  the  outside  in 
Morocco,  and  I  think  it 's  so ;  for  when  the  courier 
rang  a  bell  at  a  dingy  old  door,  it  opened,  and  there 
was  a  smiling  slave-girl  you  would  have  liked  to 
see, — a  tall,  active  creature,  with  bare  feet,  and  her 
toe-nails  stained  red,  and  gold  hoops  in  her  ears, 
and  her  clothes  of  some  white  muslin  stuff  wrapped 
around  her,  rather  than  fitted  in  an  ordinary  way." 

"  Go  on,  mother ;  I  like  you  better  than  Lady  Mary 
Wortley  Montagu." 

"  She  took  us  in,  leaving  the  men  with  the  mules 
outside ;  and  we  went  through  a  corridor  into  a  patio 
as  clean  as  hands  could  make  it  —  all  marble,  with 
a  fountain  in  the  middle.  Beyond  this,  a  long,  nar- 
row, bare  room  like  a  niche  had  smaller  niches  in 
the  two  end  walls,  with  curtains  of  cheap  Notting- 
ham lace,  for  sleeping  bunks.  There  we  were  re- 
ceived by  the  pasha's  chief  wife.  All  of  his  other 
wives,  including  the  youngest,  a  girl  of  seventeen, 
were  away  on  a  visit  to  the  country  for  change  of  air. 
I  really  should  have  liked  to  see  that  youngest  wife." 

"  Fie,  mother  !  With  your  views,  you  ought  not  to 
want  to  see  her." 

"The  only  thing  Mrs.  Treat  has  seemed  to  care 
much  about  was  missing  all  those  wives." 

"Then  what  happened?" 

"I  am  glad,  my  dear,  that  I  have  something  to 
interest  you  with — you  so  generally  know  everything 


AN  EEEANT  WOOING  159 

before  I  have  a  chance  to  find  it  out.  The  lady  of  the 
harem  was  handsome.  She  must  have  been  still  more 
so,  once — a  stately  woman,  strikingly  like  our  friend 
Mrs.  Manhattan  in  New  York,  but  faded.  Her  eyes 
were  darkened,  and  her  nails  reddened,  and  she 
wore  gold-striped  muslin  things.  After  she  had  seen 
me  seated  on  her  best  cushion  opposite  her,  and 
Mrs.  Treat  and  Justina — my  dear,  Justina  was  so 
pleased !  —  on  two  other  cushions,  she  proceeded  to 
talk  to  us  in  signs.  As  she  knew  no  French,  and  we  no 
Arabic,  it  was  a  little  slow.  So,  after  she  had  spread 
over  my  lap  a  silk-worked  muslin  napkin,  the  slave- 
girl  brought  in  a  tray  with  gilded  glasses,  a  tea-can- 
ister, pot,  and  sugar-bowl,  and  another  slave  brought 
a  brass  caldron  of  charcoal,  blew  it  up  with  a  bel- 
lows, and  put  on  a  beaten-brass  kettle  of  water  to 
boil.  Then  the  governor's  wife  made  tea  as  we  do, 
except  that  she  half  filled  the  pot  with  lumps  of 
sugar,  and  then  crammed  in  cinnamon  and  mint.  As 
the  pretty  little  gilded  tumblers  were  handed  me 
first,  I  had  to  drink  it  and  praise  it,  with  the  hostess 
looking  on." 

"  Poor  mother !  You  are  not  an  accomplished  de- 
ceiver, are  you  1 " 

"  Justina  was  so  flattered,  she  drank  three  glasses, 
and  the  hostess  evidently  thought  her  a  greater  lady 
than  either  of  us.  After  tea  she  made  her  women 
bring  out  her  needlework ;  and,  Polly,  what  do  you 
suppose  those  poor,  benighted,  shut-in  women  spend 
their  time  over?  Crazy-quilts,  in  every  variety  and 
shape!  This  ended  the  visit,  and  I  must  say,  any 
lady  receiving  her  guests  might  take  pattern  by  the 


1GO  AN   ERRANT   WOOING 

perfect  hospitality  and  politeness  of  '  that  Mrs.  Pasha/ 
as  Mrs.  Treat  called  her." 

"  So  Mrs.  Treat  was  pleased  ? " 

"  She  said  nothing  till,  when  we  got  on  our  mules 
again,  she  wondered  why  a  right  nice  housekeeper 
like  Mrs.  P.  did  n't  send  out  and  have  a  man  clean 
her  alleyway.  And  I  quite  agreed  with  her.  Polly  ! 
What  is  that  ?  My  dearest  girl,  you  don't  mean  you 
have  consented  to  wear  Roger's  ring ! " 

"  Yes,  mother." 

"  To-day,  for  the  first  time  ? " 

"  Yes,  mother." 

''Oh,  I  am  so  happy — it  needed  only  this!  As 
long  as  you  refused  to  do  that  for  him,  I  felt  uncer- 
tain and  perplexed.  Now  all  is  as  it  should  be, 
and  you  may  depend  grandpapa,  who  seems  to  see 
nothing,  will  notice  it,  and  be  as  pleased  as  I  am. 
Let  me  kiss  you,  my  daughter ;  and  tell  me  how  you 
got  a  chance  to  talk  with  Roger  alone,  to-day  of  all 
days." 

"We  were  on  a  pinnacle  looking  down  on  the 
beauty  of  the  world,  and  I  did  n't  happen  to  be  talk- 
ing to  anybody  else." 

"  The  point  was  whether  he  happened  to  be  talking 
with  anybody  else.  I  had  several  pangs,  after  you 
left,  at  the  idea  of  Roger  being  exposed  to  a  long 
day  in  the  society  of  that  beautiful  girl.  For  she  is 
beautiful,  Polly ;  and,  as  vain  a  mother  as  they  think 
I  am,  I  consider  you  rather  variable  in  your  looks. 
May  Grilehrist  has  that  transparent  rose-and-cream 
complexion  Roger  always  admired,  and  hair  just  like 
a  child's  in  its  bright  gold.  Why,  your  grandfather 
actually  noticed  her  coloring,  and  praised  it !  A  wo- 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  161 

man  would  see  she  has  110  style,  and  knows  nothing 
about  dress ;  but  a  man  sees  only  what  he  wants  to 
see  when  he  has  taken  a  fancy.  Then  May  and  Roger 
are  such  a  fine  contrast,  and  I  have  always  heard 
that  men  seek  their  opposites,  while — : 

"  While  Roger  and  I,  in  a  subdued  light,  might  be 
mistaken  for  one  another — is  that  what  you  meant 
to  say,  and  stopped?" 

"  No ;  but  you  have  a  certain  family  resemblance." 

"I  know  it.  When  I  see  Roger  crook  his  little 
finger  exactly  as  I  do  mine,  I  have  to  look  away 
in  utter  weariness.  He  had  all  the  opportunity  he 
could  desire  to  pay  tribute  to  May's  beauty  to-day ; 
for,  except  for  ten  minutes,  he  has  spent  it  with  her." 

"I  hope,  dear,  that  Sir  Piers  fully  understands 
Roger's  —  ahem !  —  preoccupation  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes.  He  knows  it,  she  knows  it,  everybody 
knows  it ! " 

"I  only  thought  it  would  be  most  regrettable  if 
that  poor  girl  were  to  form  hopes.  Come  in !  Yes, 
Justina;  say  to  Mr.  Woodbury  that  we  shall  be 
down  directly.  Polly,  on  the  whole,  it  is  just  as 
well  those  Gilehrists  are  going  to-morrow." 

"  I  think  so.  Let  us  hurry  down.  The  soup  must 
be  over,  and  the  fish  cold.  Grandpapa  will  be  fum- 
ing, and  '  thou  hast  been  the  cause  of  this  anguish, 
my  mother.' " 

"Nothing  makes  much  difference  to  me  the  day 
you  wear  Roger's  ring!  Polly,  we  shall  quite  cer- 
tainly be  in  Paris  in  June,  and  then  I  shall  set  about 
your  trousseau.  Say  what  one  will,  a  mother  must 
always  be  glad  to  get  her  daughter's  marriage  well 

off  her  mind." 
11 


X 


ND  where  are  we  bound  to  now,  Gill- 
son!"  asked  Mr.  Woodbury,  in  a 
mild  voice,  of  his  courier. 

It  was  a  source  of  secret  amuse- 
ment to  Mr.  Woodbury's  famity  that 
the  autocratic  old  gentleman,  like 
themselves,  was  under  hack  to  the  personage  to 
whom  Paulina  had  given  the  name  of  the  Grand 
Duke  of  Gibraltar.  In  a  correct  morning  costume 
of  the  latest  English  fashion,  a  crisp,  wide-brimmed 
straw  hat,  white  duck  gaiters  over  his  well-polished 
boots,  with  an  irreproachable  scarf  and  pin  and 
gloves  and  walking-stick,  Gillson  conducted  their 
movements  of  travel,  and  lent  tone  to  the  party. 

They  were  back  in  Gibraltar,  reposing  —  after  a 
return  passage  from  Tangier  in  a  small  open  boat 
half  filled  with  cattle  and  crowing  cocks,  over  a 
course  wherein  the  Atlantic  and  the  Mediterranean 
had  played  a  game  of  cross-purposes,  giving  assur- 
ance to  the  passengers  of  their  ability  to  wrench,  with- 
out breaking,  the  foundations  of  human  existence. 

In  Gibraltar  a  terral  (the  northwest  wind)  was  now 
blowing  —  a  wind  the  prevalence  of  which  produces 
such  excitement  in  the  nervous  system,  say  old  au- 

162 


AN  EEEANT  WOOING  163 

thorities,  that  courts  of  law  consider  it  a  circonstance 
atUnuante  in  cases  of  crime. 

Without  knowing  the  cause,  almost  everybody  in 
the  party  had  felt  its  influence ;  though  it  is  fair  to 
say  that  upon  Mrs.  Standish's  familiar,  Justina,  the 
effect  was  most  manifest.  Only  old  Mr.  Woodbury 
rose  superior  to  the  terral,  as  he  had  done  to  the 
crossing  from  Tangier. 

At  this  point  it  was  that  the  Grand  Duke  of  Gib- 
raltar,, inspired  by  Wilcox,  took  occasion  to  bring 
about  a  reform  in  Mr.  Woodbury's  attire.  One  of 
the  autocrat's  prejudices,  respected  by  his  household, 
was  against  wearing  gloves,  and  for  appearing  always 
in  public  in  an  old  felt  hat,  bent  and  faded,  the  occa- 
sion of  frequent  comment  from  casual  observers.  To 
propose  any  other  headgear  would  have  been  regarded 
by  the  family  as  on  a  par,  in  irreverence,  with  sug- 
gestions to  the  Pope  to  doff  his  tiara,  or  the  Czar  his 
imperial  crown.  "What,  therefore,  was  their  surprise 
on  hearing,  through  the  partition  between  their 
sitting-room  and  Mr.  Woodbury's  chamber,  the  fol- 
lowing conversation: 

"  And  where  are  we  bound  to  now,  Gillson  ? n 

"  I  think,  sir,  we  shall  try  Roiida,  and  Cordova,  and 
rest  there  before  we  go  on  to  Seville.  And,  if  you 
will  allow  me  to  observe  v  ("  hallow  me  to  hobserve," 
was  what  Gillson  actually  said),  "  I  would  advise  you 
to  buy  your  new  hat  and  gloves  here  in  Gibraltar,  al- 
though the  gloves  are  fair  in  Seville,  and  I  can  take 
you  to  the  place  there  where  I  always  get  mine  in  the 
quantity.  I  'ave  hordered  the  man  with  whom  I  gen- 
erally deal  in  Gib  to  send  in  some  straw  'ats  from 


164  AN  EREANT  WOOING 

which  you  can  make  selection ;  and  if  Mr.  Wilcox 
will  step  below,  I  dare  say  the  messenger  is  now 
waiting  in  the  hall." 

"  Straw  hats,  Gillson  ! "  came  the  response,  in  tones 
of  honey.  "  Well,  if  I  am  in  Spain,  I  must  do  as  the 
Spaniards  do,  eh?  You  think  we  shall  find  the  power 
of  the  sun  sufficient  to  necessitate  straw  hats  ? " 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it,  sir.  I  should  not  venture  to 
conduct  my  party  at  this  season  unless  properly  pro- 
tected in  all  matters  of  'ygiene.  When  I  'ad  the 
honor  to  travel  with  their  Roy'l  'ighnesses  the  Prince 
and  Princess  of  — " 

The  rest  was  moonshine  to  the  listeners.  They 
were  now  well  acquainted  with  Gillson's  Royal  High- 
nesses, and  the  main  point  established  was  that 
grandpapa's  outer  man  was  to  be  rehabilitated. 

When  he  appeared  ready  for  the  railway  journey 
to  Ronda,  and  descended  the  steps  of  the  quay  into  a 
rowboat  to  cross  the  bay  to  Algeciras,  all  of  his  party, 
with  common  consent,  looked  at  the  mountains,  the 
sea,  the  oarsmen.  None  dared  be  first  to  fix  the  eye 
upon  grandpapa's  new  straw  hat.  At  last  Paulina, 
ever  dauntless,  glanced  aside  at  him,  and  beheld  not 
only  a  new  hat,  but  a  decidedly  smart  one,  with  a  blue 
band,  and  a  string  to  attach  it  to  the  buttonhole; 
and,  to  complete  the  marvel,  Mr.  Woodbury  wore 
reddish-brown  dogskin  gloves  with  flat  brass  buttons, 
at  which  he  ever  and  anon  glanced  down,  half  shy, 
half  fascinated. 

"Good  gracious!"  she  whispered  to  Roger,  "if 
this  keeps  on,  Gillson  will  have  him  rejuvenated,  and 


AN  EEEANT  WOOING  165 

perhaps  falling  in  love,  before  we  get  out  of  Spain ; 
and  oh !  Roger,  how  grandly  that  would  settle  us." 

"  I  '11  swear,  Polly,  a  man  never  knows  how  to  take 
you,"  he  said,  with  some  show  of  petulance. 

"If  only,  Roger  dear,  you  would  try  not  taking 
me !  "  she  rejoined. 

Drops  of  such  bitter,  falling  daily  into  Roger's  cup, 
forced  the  young  man  to  make  up  his  mind  that  he 
must  have  some  explanation  from  Polly,  or  else  bind 
her  over  to  keep  the  peace.  The  fancy  that  at  times 
he  had  detected  in  her  clear  eyes  —  eyes  that  could 
hide  nothing  from  those  she  trusted  —  a  "hunted" 
look,  pained  him  exceedingly.  But  again,  when, 
during  their  expeditions,  he  fell  into  private  conver- 
sation with  his  aunt,  Mrs.  Standish  always  expressed 
her  satisfaction  with  what  she  was  pleased  to  call 
the  "  beautiful "  way  all  things  were  tending  to  the 
goal  desired.  Polly  was  "  so  good "  about  it,  grand- 
papa "  so  pleased."  That  morning  she  had  written  to 
Sophy  Low  to  say  that  when  it  came  Sophy's  turn  to 
have  a  girl  engaged,  she  could  only  hope  it  would 
give  the  "comfort"  Polly's  affair  did  to  every  one 
concerned.  And  then,  after  letting  the  active  brain 
of  the  kind  matron  spring  ahead  to  the  point  of  fur- 
nishing their  house  and  engaging  their  servants,  how 
refreshing  it  was  to  Roger  to  come  up  with  Polly  and 
be  held  at  arm's  length  like  a  stranger ! 

Roger  knew  himself  to  be  well  supplied  with  proper 
pride.  In  another  girl  he  would  have  resented  many 
things  accepted,  because  it  was  the  habit  of  the  family 
to  accept  them,  from  the  little  Juggernaut,  Paulina. 


166  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

He  had  the  American  idea  that  girls  worth  having, 
like  trout  worth  having,  must  always  be  played  be- 
fore landing.  Vague  imaginings  assailed  him  of  the 
pleasure  he  would  experience  when  Polly,  tired  out, 
should  cease  to  struggle,  should  submit  to  be  drawn 
in ;  but  these  were  beginning  to  be  more  vague. 

Melted  long  ago  into  thin  air  were  a  young  fel- 
low's dreams  of  the  sweet  comradeship  in  which  he 
should  be  loving  ruler,  she  happy  subject.  He  had 
no  such  illusions  now.  The  best  he  could  hope  from 
his  wife  must  be  that  she  would  come  to  him  in  a 
series  of  stormy  repentances,  and  bewitch  him  into 
saying  that  what  had  passed  made  no  difference. 

It  was  in  Ronda,  when  sallying  forth  in  a  party 
in  the  wake  of  Gillson,  that  he  resolved  to  ask  her 
what  ailed  her,  and  be  done  with  it.  They  had  come 
to  the  Tajo,  that  mighty  cleft  in  the  rock  made,  so 
tradition  said,  by  the  sword  of  a  Moorish  magician 
to  be  a  resource  for  the  old  town  when  beleaguered 
by  an  enemy.  Ahead  of  them,  Gillson,  in  full  pro- 
fessional career,  was  administering  information  as 
to  the  fate  of  the  architect  of  the  bridge  they  stood 
upon — "which  'e  fell  from  this  dizzy  'ight,  and 
was  himmediately  dashed  to  pieces  in  the  chassum 
below  — " 

"  Suppose  we  run  away  and  explore  on  our  own  ac- 
count," suggested  Roger  to  his  affianced,  in  a  whisper. 

"  Good ! "  said  Polly.  In  a  moment  they  had  fled, 
not  to  pause  to  .draw  breath  till  at  respectful  distance 
from  the  scene  of  Gillson's  eloquence. 

After  long  wandering  they  came  out  under  the  cas- 
tle, and,  climbing  up  to  the  grassy  parapet  springing 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  167 

with  poppies,  rested  in  the  shadow  of  the  one  most 
lovely  tower  remaining  of  an  ancient  citadel  which 
once  covered  as  much  ground  as  the  Alhambra. 

"  What  is  that  line,  like  a  streak  from  a  lead-pencil, 
far  away  over  there  on  the  mountain  ? "  asked  Polly. 

"  Probably  a  road  leading  into  the  town,  where  any 
day  you  may  see  a  train  of  charcoal-bearing  donkeys 
wending  their  way  down,  the  owner  asleep  in  the  last 
pannier,"  said  Roger,  who  had  been  practising  his 
Spanish  in  getting  information  from  one  or  two 
pretty  landladies.  "  Over  it,  too,  no  doubt,  come  the 
smugglers,  who,  with  the  bull-fighters,  are  the  joy 
of  the  populace.  The  civil  guards,  who  patrol  these 
approaches  to  Ronda,  make  a  feint  of  overhauling 
the  tobacco,  clothes,  and  jewelry  brought  from  Gib- 
raltar by  the  contrabandista,  in  case  he  has  escaped 
the  highway  robbers  farther  back.  But  there  is  often 
a  '  cordial  intent'  between  guards  and  smugglers,  and 
the  contrabaudista  steps  proudly  and  fearlessly  about 
his  native  streets.  Look  out  for  him,  Polly;  no  doubt 
we  shall  see  him  this  morning  smoking  his  cigarette 
in  a  doorway  leading  into  one  of  those  tempting 
patios  hung  inside  with  last  year's  apples  and  grapes 
and  pears." 

As  they  talked,  he  was  watching  his  opportunity  to 
introduce  the  subject  of  his  grievance ;  but,  whether 
Polly  divined  this  or  not,  she  was  in  a  provokingly 
elusive  mood.  So  long  as  he  treated  topics  of  the 
moment,  topics  of  general  interest,  she  was  all  anima- 
tion and  sisterly  interest.  As  soon  as  he  drew  near 
to  discussion  of  themselves,  she  would  prove  to  be 
Polly  at  her  worst. 


168  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"  You  are  more  than  I  can  endure  ! "  he  exclaimed 
at  last,  angrily. 

"Thank  you,  Roger!  Now  I  feel  better,  as  that 
Frenchwoman  said  in  the  play,  after  she  had  boxed 
her  husband's  ear.  A  real  quarrel  is  what  I  've  been 
longing  for.  Let  us  leave  behind  us  in  Eonda  the 
record  of  a  fight  fiercer  than  anything  ever  known 
between  Christian  and  Saracen.  You  may  be  Chris- 
tian 5  I  prefer  the  Paynims,  as  far  as  I  've  made  their 
acquaintance  in  Spanish  history." 

"Paulina,  you  can  be  so  absurd!"  he  retorted, 
laughing  despite  himself.  "  Will  you  never  learn 
that  between  people  who  are  to  spend  their  lives 
together,  as  we  are,  this  sparring  is  not  only  dan- 
gerous but  undignified  ?  " 

"  Thank  you  for  reminding  me  of  that,"  she  said, 
blood  rushing  into  her  face.  "  If  you  curb  my  tongue 
it  will  be  worse  inside  —  worse  than  it  is  now  j  and 
God  knows,  that 's  bad ! " 

"  Polly,  why  should  it  be  bad  inside  now  ?  Did  n't 
you  take  me  of  your  own  free  will  ?  Have  I  pushed 
myself  on  you?  Is  Aunt  Rose  all  wrong  in  telling 
me  that  this  engagement  of  ours  is  making  every- 
body happy  who  has  to  do  with  it?  Don't  you  be- 
lieve that  I  am  honestly  and  heartily  intending  to 
devote  my  whole  life  to  making  you  not  repent  your 
bargain?" 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  I  do ! " 

"  Don't  you  believe,  if  I  thought  there  were  any  one 
you  loved  better  than  me,  I  would  give  you  up  to 
him  at  the  risk  of  sacrificing  no  matter  what  our 
grandfather  intends  for  me  in  the  future?" 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  169 

"  Yes,"  she  said  faintly. 

"  But  I  've  known  your  whole  life,  dear ;  I  've  read 
it  like  a  fair,  open  page.  You  have  walked  alone  — 
have  never  dropped  into  flirtations,  never  encouraged 
fellows  like  other  girls.  Who  could  there  possibly  be 
to  come  between  you  and  me  ? " 

"  Who  ? n  she  repeated,  hardly  audible. 

"  If  there  were  a  man  I  suspected  of  loving  you, — 
some  one  kept  at  his  distance  by  our  affair, —  I  'd 
have  thought  that  was  troubling  you.  Much  as  it 
would  have  cost  me,  I  should  have  stepped  out  of 
the  way — " 

"But  there  is  no  such  man,  is  there?"  she  inter- 
rupted, turning  away  to  gaze  over  the  wide  plain 
surrounding  the  town.  "As  you  say,  there  was  never 
such  a  man.  I  'm  a  bad  bargain  left  on  your  hands. 
Some  day,  Roger,  away  in  the  dim  future,  you  will 
have  another  Paulina — a  meek  Paulina,  'all  duty, 
all  observance.'  She  will  walk  by  your  side,  and  you 
will  wonder  what  became  of  the  creature  that  made 
your  youth  a  burden.  Now  I  want  to  go  back  to  the 
fonderia"  she  concluded,  springing  to  her  feet. 

"  There  was  such  a  dreadfully  sad  cadence  in  your 
voice  just  now,"  he  persisted,  though  he  felt  that  his 
audience  was  at  an  end. 

"Sad!  No,"  she  returned.  "I  am  ready  to  echo 
the  town  boast  that  there  is  but  one  Ronda,  and  its 
air  makes  me  want  to  fly." 

As  they  passed,  going  back  to  their  inn,  a  certain 
door  upon  a  street  near  the  rift  between  the  old  town 
and  the  new,  a  couple  of  urchins  who  followed  them 
made  show  of  the  liveliest  pantomime  of  anxiety  that 


170  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

they  should  knock  at  it,  at  the  same  time  urging  the 
matter  in  voluble  speech. 

"What  do  they  say,  Roger?"  asked  Polly,  bowing 
to  his  superior  knowledge  of  the  language. 

"  I  can,  as  usual,  understand  all  but  the  vital  part. 
However,  it  is  plain  that  something  of  interest  lurks 
behind  that  unassuming  portal;  so,  if  you  say  so, 
we  '11  investigate." 

"If  we  were  decoyed  and  made  prisoners  in  a 
Moorish  dungeon!" 

"  I  think,  if  they  had  you  against  your  will,  they 
would  soon  let  you  out,"  he  answered. 

"  For  shame,  Roger  !  What  encouragement  have 
I  to  be  so  good  ? "  she  replied,  three  parts  in  earnest. 
"  Can  it  be  that  my  late  acquiescence,  propriety,  gen- 
eral amiability,  have  made  no  impression  on  you  ?  " 

"They  have  been  as  remarkable  as  the  fact  that 
my  grandfather,  who  does  nothing  by  halves,  put  on 
his  new  gloves  this  morning  to  sally  forth  to  the 
Alameda.  Indeed,  for  a  week  past  you  have — how 
long  did  we  stay  in  Tangier  after  the  Gilchrists  left?" 

"  Roger,  you  measure  everything  by  the  Gilchrists' 
comings  and  goings.  What  are  they  to  us?  We 
shall  see  them  no  more,  except,  perhaps,  in  a  crowd 
at  Seville." 

"I  should  feel  disappointed  if  I  did  not  have  an 
opportunity  of  continuing  my  very  jolly  talks  with 
Miss  Gilchrist,"  said  the  young  man,  ingenuously. 
"  When  you  flout  me,  Polly,  it  is  good  to  have  that 
calm,  tranquil  sort  of  refuge." 

"  But  I  don't  flout  you  now,  Roger.  At  least  not 
since  I  've  worn  this  ring.  Yes,  little  boys;  ring, 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  171 

knock,  batter  down  the  door  as  you  please.  I  'm  dy- 
ing to  get  in  there.  I  Ve  a  presentiment  I  am  going 
to  meet  my  fate." 

The  boys,  thus  encouraged,  pounded  and  rang  so 
lustily  that  the  old  dame  who  appeared  at  the  open- 
ing of  the  portal  scolded  them  fiercely,  and,  while 
letting  in  the  strangers,  shut  out  the  offenders. 

"They  will  be  waiting  to  get  your  coppers  when 
we  come  out,"  observed  Polly.  "  Why,  this  is  not  at 
all  creepy,  this  pleasant  patio,  with  the  garden  be- 
yond, and  the  birds  and  plants." 

"I  say,  Polly,"  said  Roger,  to  whom  the  old  wo- 
man had  addressed  herself;  "this  is  the  house  of 
Rey  Moro.  She  says  the  gentleman  who  built  it  had 
the  pleasant  habit  of  drinking  his  wine  out  of  the 
skulls  of  the  captives  whose  heads  he  had  cut  off, 
though  he  made  amends  to  them  by  having  the  skulls 
set  in  gold  and  studded  with  pearls  and  rubies.  Gill- 
son  told  me  of  the  place,  and  he  will  never  get  over 
our  having  found  it  for  ourselves." 

The  house  was  built  upon  the  verge  of  the  chasm 
that  separates  the  towns,  and,  behind  it,  from  a  tiny 
terrace  full  of  snowdrops  and  wallflowers,  fell  away 
stairs  hewn  in  the  rock,  descending  to  the  bottom 
of  the  Tajo  in  zigzags,  and  intersected  by  gardens 
with  balustrades  similar  to  the  one  above. 

"She  says  there  is  a  grotto  about  four  hundred 
feet  below  there,"  went  on  Roger,  elated  with  his 
own  success  in  understanding  a  native ;  "  and  it  was 
dug  by  Spanish  prisoners,  who  also  cut  the  staircase 
in  the  rock.  They  used  to  carry  jars  of  water  up  to 
serve  the  house  and  garden,  and  if  they  lagged  on 


172  AN  EKRANT  WOOING 

the  way  were  walloped  by  the  scimitars  of  the  Moors. 
'  Walloped'  is  a  free  translation,  understand." 

"Roger,  don't  say  another  word!"  cried  Polly, 
dancing  about  in  delight.  "  I  never  was  in  the  mid- 
dle ages  till  this  minute.  I  want  to  stay  alone  and 
be  part  of  a  Spanish  ballad,  while  you  are  to  go  on 
down  to  the  grotto,  to  the  very  bottom,  see  every- 
thing there  is  to  see,  and  come  back,  having  solved 
its  mystery.  Whatever  you  meet  down  there,  whe- 
ther dragon  or  serpent,  or  jar  of  gold,  or  fairy  prin- 
cess, you  must  conquer  it,  and  make  it  yours.  As 
for  me — good-by,  America!  I  'in  now  a  Moorish 
lady,  named  Xarif a,  whose  Spanish  lover  is  forced  by 
her  cruel  father  to  work  in  that  pit,  while  she  sits 
embroidering  a  golden  cushion,  and  plotting  and 
planning  how  she  shall  deliver  him.  And  the  very 
next  time  he  comes  toiling  up  these  steps  carrying 
on  his  head  a  jar  of  water  to  help  to  fill  a  well  or 
fountain,  I  shall  slip  into  his  hand  a  golden  key  that 
will  unlock  the  postern-gate.  I  don't  know  exactly 
where  that  is,  but  I  '11  be  outside  it,  waiting  on  the 
croup  of  a  fleet  Spanish  barb,  with  my  jewels  tied  in 
a  white  scarf.  No,  Roger;  don't  say  I  'm  a  goose. 
I  know,  I  feel,  that  my  only  love  and  yours  are  down 
at  the  bottom  of  the  ravine.  I  think,  on  the  whole, 
I  will  throw  the  key  to  mine." 

She  had  taken  from  the  old  dame's  hand  a  tuft  of 
wallflower  streaked  with  purple  and  gold,  and  now, 
leaning  over,  threw  it  into  the  abyss,  while  Roger, 
laughing,  ran  down  the  rocky  steps.  He  was  hardly 
out  of  sight  when  she  heard  voices  in  the  direction 
he  had  taken,  and,  at  once,  coming  to  meet  her  with 


AN  EREANT  WOOING  173 

great  strides,  Gilchrist,  carrying  the  bit  of  wall- 
flower, appeared  on  the  terrace  below. 

"  I  think  we  must  admit  we  are  driven  together  by 
destiny,"  he  said,  when  he  reached  her ;  but  to  the  re- 
lief of  Paulina,  who  was  covered  with  blushes,  in  a 
manner  unsuggestive  of  sentiment. 

They  shook  hands,  and  he  extended  to  her  the 
flower. 

"  Is  this  yours,  and  may  1  keep  it  ?  " 

"It  was  mine.  I  lost — I  threw  it  over;  but  I  want 
it  again  very  much,"  she  replied,  grasping  it  nervously. 

"  It  fell  on  my  head,"  he  said,  smiling ;  "  and  May, 
who  has  remained  below  to  show  the  grotto  to  your 
cousin,  said  I  was  like  Chicken  Little,  who  thought 
the  world  was  falling.  This  is  astonishing.  Your 
plan,  when  I  left  Tangier,  was  to  go  first  to  Granada, 
then  to  Seville." 

"  So  you  came  to  Ronda  to  avoid  me,"  was  on  her 
tongue,  but  she  desisted.  Polly  knew  that  in  the 
present  condition  of  affairs  nothing  could  be  more 
dangerous  to  her  own  security  than  one  of  the  ana- 
lytical discussions  of  the  origin  of  actions,  so  dear  to 
persons  still  under  the  aureole  of  undeclared  attach- 
ment. Besides,  the  suddenness  of  seeing  him  had  had 
the  unusual  effect  of  depriving  her  of  speech.  She 
strove  to  utter  one  of  her  airy,  dashing  phrases,  but 
no  words  came ;  she  was  only  ridiculously,  insanely 
happy  to  breathe  the  same  air  with  him,  in  the  shadow 
of  the  old  Moorish  house,  where  everything  suggested 
romance. 

"  We  came  last  night  from  Granada,"  he  said.  "  I 
had  promised  May  that  she  should  see  an  ideal  old 


174  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

town,  and  it  seemed  a  good  time  to  select.  And  we 
are  just  about  resigning  ourselves  not  to  go  to  Seville 
till  the  turmoil  of  Passion  Week  is  past.  There  are 
feasts  a  few  weeks  later,  equally  well  worth  seeing.  I 
shall  regret  to  miss  being  there  with  you  and  your 
cousin  and  your  mother,  and  that  excellent  old  gentle- 
man your  grandfather." 

"  Why  don't  you  add, '  and  the  courier  and  the  valet 
and  the  maid?'"  she  asked,  seeing  him  blundering 
along,  as  evidently  under  the  weight  of  repressed 
emotion  as  was  she.  "  Of  course  I  understand  why 
you  came  here  when  you  thought  I  was  going  to  be  in 
Granada  —  of  course ! "  and  then  the  "  Moorish  lady  " 
stopped,  and  disposed  of  something  very  like  a  sob, 
while  the  "  Spanish  captive "  wondered  what  he  had 
done  to  be  so  dealt  with  by  mischievous  opportunity. 

Not  daring  to  face  her,  he  turned,  and  walked  to 
the  edge  of  the  terrace,  and  called  down  to  May. 
There  was  a  delay  in  May's  answer,  and  a  longer 
delay  in  her  appearance,  followed  by  Roger,  looking, 
as  his  cousin  scanned  him  with  the  frolic  humor  she 
could  never  keep  long  in  abeyance,  a  little  foolish. 

They  walked  away  together  from  the  Mina  de 
Ronda,  on  the  whole  rather  resigned  to  the  new  deal- 
ing of  the  cards.  Even  the  faithful  Roger  found  an 
agreeable  zest  in  May's  unfeigned  welcome  of  his  so- 
ciety. There  was  something  reposeful  in  her  pres- 
ence; he  had  no  fear  of  being  jerked  by  her  hither 
and  thither  by  the  bit.  Their  conversations  gave  him 
occasion  to  say  so  many  things  he  thought  of  and 
dwelt  upon,  which  to  Polly  seemed  twice-told  tales. 
As  modest  as  man  can  be,  he  yet  had  a  little  of  the 


AN  EERANT  WOOING  175 

natural  aspiration  of  his  sex  toward  being  Sir  Oracle 
to  her  he  loved.  And  Polly,  the  lawless  one,  knew 
no  Sir  Oracle.  There  was  never  any  telling  at  what 
minute  she  would  whip  around  and  blow  cold  upon 
his  finest  feelings,  his  tenderest  hopes.  May,  on  the 
contrary,  was  always  the  same, —  earnest,  simple, 
wholesome, —  her  eyes  like  blue,  clear  lakes,  into 
which  he  might  gaze  and  be  refreshed;  her  mind, 
slower  to  work  than  his  cousin's,  but  fine  and  well 
balanced,  never  disappointing  him  when  its  workings 
appeared  upon  the  surface.  And,  to  tell  the  full  truth, 
Roger  found  May  the  most  beautiful  creature  he  had 
ever  seen.  Loyal  at  heart  to  his  Paulina,  he  was  lay- 
ing up  images  of  May  in  her  different  aspects  that 
would  serve  as  food  for  memory  all  his  life  thereafter. 
As  an  old  man  he  felt  sure  he  would  shut  his  eyes 
and  conjure  up  this  English  maiden's  face  and  figure, 
whenever  he  should  want  to  bring  back  the  chief  glory 
of  things  seen  in  his  youth. 

After  the  meeting  at  Eey  Moro's  house,  there  seemed 
to  be  no  question  of  further  avoidance  of  their  party 
in  Grilchrist's  mind.  The  four  walked  through  the 
streets,  peeping  into  courtyards  and  barred  windows, 
behind  which  pretty  women  were  talking  to  caballeros 
a-tiptoe  on  the  sidewalk;  went  to  the  Casa  Man- 
dragon  ;  and  were  finally  brought  up  by  the  discovery 
of  Mrs.  Standish,  attended  by  her  maid,  in  distress 
over  some  purchases  she  had  undertaken  to  make 
alone  in  a  little  shop. 

"  Oh,  Roger !  Oh,  Sir  Piers !  how  do  you  do  ?  How 
do  you  do,  Miss  Gilchrist  ?  We  had  no  idea  of  seeing 
you  in  Ronda.  I  am  so  glad  you  have  all  come,  for  you 


176  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

will  drive  'away  the  dreadful  little  boys  who  are  fol- 
lowing us,  and  that  idiot  who  has  frightened  Justiua 
so.  Polly,  help  me  to  choose.  I  am  planning  to  take 
Toodles  something  characteristic  from  each  place  we 
stop  at,  and  of  course  he  won't  want  fans ;  so  here  is 
an  Andalusian  peasant's  suit,  and  a  mule-harness." 

"What  will  he  do  with  it,  Aunt  Rose  ? "  said  Roger. 

"  There  might  be  a  fancy-dress  ball,  Roger,  and  it 
would  become  Toodles  so  well." 

"  What !  the  mule-harness  ? " 

"No,  Roger;  don't  take  me  up.  He  could  hang 
that  in  his  room  when  he  goes  to  college.  At  any 
rate,  it  is  very  cheap." 

"Allow  me,"  put  in  Gilchrist,  interrupting.  In  a 
trice  the  sum  asked  for  the  purchase  fell  one  half, 
and  laden  with  trophies  the  party  walked  out  of  the 
shop,  the  posse  of  youngsters,  who  had  been  so  an- 
noying, taking  care  to  keep  a  good  distance  from  the 
sticks  of  the  new  arrivals. 

"  IF  you  will  be  my  guests  this  evening,"  said  Gil- 
christ, coming  in  on  the  Americans  at  their  luncheon, 
"  I  have  taken  a  box  for  the  '  Fantoches  de  Narbon/ 
a  puppet-show  just  now  attracting  the  gentry  and 
public  of  Ronda." 

"Delightful!"  cried  Paulina.  "But  why  did  you 
take  a  box  ?  I  should  like  to  sit  with  the  crowd." 

"  As  I  thought  you  would  be  more  comfortable  to 
yourselves,  I  committed  the  extravagance  of  paying 
twelve  shillings  for  the  only  box  in  the  theater.  I 
think  it  would  hold  a  small  army.  You  must  not 
go  if  you  mind  tobacco-smoke,  Mrs.  Stan  dish ;  for 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  177 

every  man  and  boy  puffs  his  cigarette  throughout  the 
performance — though,  I  will  say  for  them,  the  thea- 
ter is  well  ventilated.  It  is  a  capital  way  to  see  the 
people  of  the  place,  and  the  whole  affair  will  be  de- 
cent and  orderly." 

"  We  '11  accept,"  said  Polly.  "  Grandpapa,  you  said 
just  now  you  feel  better  in  this  air  than  at  any  time 
for  fifty  years  past,  so  you  '11  be  there ;  and  mama  is 
intolerant  of  tobacco  only  when  Toodles  asks  her 
when  he  may  begin  smoking." 

She  had  crossed  the  room,  and  was  standing  by 
Gilchrist.  By  some  strange  process  of  a  woman's 
mind,  her  recent  objection  to  trusting  herself  in  his 
society  had  been  temporarily  set  aside.  It  seemed 
quite  natural  that  when  he  came  into  a  room  she 
should  absorb  him. 

"What  is  May  going  to  do  this  afternoon?"  she 
asked. 

"  We  are  just  off  for  a  ride  to  the  Cueva  del  Gato, 
a  cavern  all  stalactites,  rather  a  risky  place  for  a  rash 
traveler  to  venture.  If  we  are  not  heard  of  more,  put 
up  a  tinsel  trinket  for  me  in  Santa  Maria,  won't 
you?"  And,  without  a  hint  of  wanting  her  company 
on  the  expedition,  he  took  leave. 

It  is  safe  to  hazard  the  supposition  that  Polly,  at 
that  moment,  would  rather  have  been  asked  to  visit 
the  Cueva  del  Gato  than  any  spot  known  to  explorers. 
But  she  would  on  no  account  have  let  Roger  see  the 
blankness  of  her  face.  It  was  as  it  should  be,  she 
admitted  when  she  went  out  on  horseback  on  her 
own  account,  accompanied  by  Roger.  No  one  could 
have  behaved  more  sensibly,  with  more  consideration, 


178  AN  ERE ANT  WOOING 

than  Gilchrist  in  the  unforeseen  emergency  of  their 
meeting  here.  Had  he  not  won  every  right  to  go  off 
with  May,  and  ride  to  dangerous  caverns  Paulina 
would  have  given  her  eyes  to  see?  So  also  had 
Eoger  and  Polly  the  right  to  ride  to  the  Cueva  del 
Gato,  but  naturally  she  said  nothing  would  induce 
her  to  turn  in  that  direction.  A  little  later,  she  did 
think  Gilchrist  might  have  given  her  a  chance  to  go 
there,  either  before  or  after  him.  As  strangers,  Polly 
and  Roger  wished  to  see  all  the  interesting  places. 
But  now,  how  could  they  go,  if  they  were  to  risk 
meeting  the  Gilchrists,  who  had  plainly  shown  a  de- 
sire not  to  meet  Miss  Standish  and  Mr.  Woodbury  ? 
And  so  at  last  Polly  worked  herself  to  the  point  of 
thinking  Sir  Piers  might  have  been  a  little  kinder. 

Eoger,  who,  wondering  at  her  long  silence,  ad- 
dressed a  remark  to  her  about  the  scenery  on  the 
bridge-path  they  had  selected,  was  told  that  if  he  did 
not  know  there  were  times  when  she  had  rather  die 
than  talk,  he  had  better  find  it  out  before  it  should 
be  too  late.  For  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon  she 
did  not  smile  j  the  environs  of  Eonda  were  scanned 
without  praise,  and  Polly's  companion  returned  with 
her  to  the  inn,  feeling  both  flat  and  indignant. 

Her  face  brightened  when  they  took  possession  of 
the  promised  box  at  the  theater,  even  though  Sir 
Piers,  after  placing  her  in  her  chair,  presenting  her 
with  a  bull-fight  fan  and  a  tiny  box  of  chocolates  like 
those  he  offered  to  the  other  ladies,  and  asking  if 
she  had  a  good  view  of  the  stage,  went  over  and 
dutifully  took  a  seat  behind  Mrs.  Standish  and  Mr. 
"Woodbury. 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  179 

Observation  of  her  grandparent  here  developed  to 
Paulina  the  fact  that  the  old  gentleman  was  rather 
doubtfully  eying  his  own  hands  in  a  new  pair  of 
pearl-colored  gloves  with  black  stitching.  He  had 
looked  at  Roger's  bare  hands,  then  at  Gilchrist's,  and 
was  fumbling  with  his  buttons,  when  he  espied  the 
courier  and  Wilcox,  occupying  gallery  seats  near  by, 
wearing  gloves  exactly  like  his  own.  No  one  pre- 
sumed to  be  aware  of  Mr.  Woodbury's  impatient  tear- 
ing off  of  his  hand-coverings,  which,  crumpled  in  a 
ball,  were  tossed  upon  the  floor  of  the  box. 

The  audience,  assembling  promptly,  consisted  of 
the  leading  families  of  the  town  —  who  filled  the  best 
seats  below,  and  two  front  rows  of  the  gallery  —  and 
the  general  public,  elsewhere  bestowed,  including  ba- 
bies in  arms,  carried  by  their  fathers,  who  smoked 
over  their  heads. 

Grave  senors,  retaining  during  the  evening  the 
universal  sombrero,  stalked  in,  draped  in  cloaks  with 
many  capes,  faced  with  blue  or  crimson  plush.  Their 
sefioras,  fat  and  sleek-haired,  with  fans  and  mantillas, 
were  generally  of  a  serious  cast  of  countenance,  and 
not  unfrequently  wore  mustaches.  The  senoritas,  in 
the  bloom  of  Andalusian  maidenhood,  were  bewitch- 
ing, with  dark  eyes,  milk-white  complexions,  dark 
hair  elaborately  dressed  and  tipped  with  a  rosebud, 
tuberose,  or  carnation ;  bodices  pink  or  white,  gloves 
of  white  kid,  white  fans,  and  opera-glasses;  talking 
together,  discreetly  cognizant  of  chaperons. 

During  the  performance  all  was  sober,  comme  il 
faut.  The  chief  sound  heard  from  the  audience  was 
the  striking  of  a  fusee  upon  a  match-box  when  a  new 


180  AN   EREANT  WOOING 

cigarette  was  required.  In  the  entr'actes,  glasses  of  a 
pink  fluid  and  little  sweet  cakes  were  indulged  in; 
and  the  senors  moved  about,  talking  without  a  waste 
of  animation  to  their  acquaintances. 

For  the  stage,  it  may  be  said  that  the  "  magnificent 
function,"  advertised  on  handbills  of  all  colors  scat- 
tered in  the  streets,  was  surprisingly  good  of  its 
kind. 

The  "  Fantoches  de  Narbon  "  (large-sized  marion- 
ettes), "  distinguished  notably  from  all  others  so 
called,"  owed — so  the  public  was  assured  by  the  bills 
—  their  scenic  attraction  to  the  "inspiration"  of  the 
Barcelonese  painters  Morages  and  Urgelles,  whose 
masterpieces,  having  "  received  the  eulogies  of  the 
critics  and  the  general  applause  of  the  world,  were 
now  presented  to  the  notice  of  the  citizens  of  Ronda." 

The  program,  beginning  with  a  "  sinf onia  "  from  a 
limited  orchestra,  proceeded  with  the 

Comedy  of  Magic,  written  in  verse  for  this  spectacle  by 
D.  Jos6  Mazo,  entitled 

MAETA, 

The  Beneficent  Fairy! 

Developed  in  twelve  magnificent  scenes  distributed  as  follows : 
Act  I.  A  mountainous  country!    The  Enchanted  Cave!    The 
regal  bower  of  the  Fairy ! 

Act  n.  Snow-fields !  A  Garden !  A  market-place  in  Turkey ! 
A  hall !  A  vestibule  in  the  palace  of  the  Grand  Bashaw  of 
Persia ! 

Act  HI.  Interior  of  a  castle !    The  Shrine  of  Love ! 
Act  IV.  An  arbor  in  a  garden !    The  Temple  of  Felicity! 
With  many  tricks  of  transformation.     The  prices  of  seats  to 
be  announced  by  handbills. 

General  admission,  50  centimes. 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  181 

In  the  box  of  state,  a  merry  party  followed  the  ad- 
ventures of  the  wooden  peasant  who,  let  down  on  a 
wire  from  above,  jerked  and  dangled  with  his  com- 
rades through  the  four  acts  of  the  "  Comedy  of 
Magic."  This  hero,  to  whom  the  seeress  granted  his 
wild  wish  to  go  to  Persia  and  marry  the  daughter  of 
the  Grand  Basha,  sustained  his  part  gallantly,  and  was 
interpreted  by  a  sonorous  and  well-trained  voice  from 
behind  the  scenes.  The  costumes  were  rich  in  stage 
trumpery,  especially  the  apparel  of  the  Basha's 
daughter.  The  tricks  of  transformation  were  well 
done,  and  the  scenes  justified  (to  a  degree)  the  world's 
eulogy  of  Morages  and  Urgelles  of  Barcelona. 

Polly,  who  with  Roger  and  May  had  been  laughing 
over  the  rigidity  of  the  hero  at  his  supreme  moment 
of  success  in  love,  suddenly  became  aware  that  her 
grandfather  and  her  mother  were  urging  Sir  Piers  to 
accompany  them  to  Seville. 

"  That  's  what  he  gets  for  making  himself  agree- 
able to  them,"  she  thought. 

"Why,  my  dear  sir,  you  are  a  boon  to  us  —  a 
boon,"  her  grandfather  was  saying.  "And  if  you 
have  not  engaged  your  rooms,  don't  give  yourself  any 
concern.  My  courier  has  taken  two  more  than  we 
shall  absolutely  need,  and  they  are  quite  at  your  ser- 
vice. In  the  Hotel  de  Madrid,  I  believe.  The  best 
place  to  go,  they  tell  me.  And  we  have  a  large  box 
for  the  processions  —  larger  than  we  '11  require. 
Pray  give  us  the  pleasure  of  sharing  it  with  you." 

"  I  am  sure,  Sir  Piers,"  put  in  Mrs.  Standish,  in  her 
soft  voice,  "  it  would  be  a  thousand  pities  to  separate 
our  young  people  just  when  they  have  taken  such  a 


182  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

fancy  to  each  other.  You  and  I  know  one  can  be 
young  but  once.  So  soon  my  daughter  will  be  mar- 
rying and  settling,  and  no  doubt  yours  will  follow  — 
ought  n't  you  to  make  a  little  effort  to  amuse  her  ? " 

"  Not  go  to  Seville  ?  Oh,  pshaw ! "  said  Roger, 
catching  the  drift  of  the  conversation.  ""Why,  man, 
you  must !  Miss  Gilchrist  has  just  confessed  to  us 
that  she  longs  to  be  there,  and  is  hoping  you  '11 
change  your  mind." 

Polly,  her  eyes  upon  the  puppets  of  the  stage,  felt 
that  here  was  a  human  comedy  in  which  the  wires 
forcing  the  actors  to  dance  were  pulled  by  hands 
invisible.  She  refused  to  look  around,  to  join  in 
the  talk,  to  say  a  word  either  way  to  influence  the 
decision. 

And  by  and  by  she  heard  the  voice  that  was  the 
charm  of  her  life  say  slowly :  "  Of  course  I  can't  hold 
out  against  such  kindness.  We  shall  go." 


XI 


EMANA  SANTA,"  in  Seville !  By 
the  middle  of  the  week  Paulina 
felt  that  her  repertory  of  impres- 
sions of  the  gay  little  Andalusian 
city  was  already  full,  and  yet  the 
best  were  still  to  come. 
Her  family — the  Gilchrists  accompanying  —  had 
put  in  the  time  intervening  between  their  visit  to 
Ronda  and  the  beginning  of  Holy  "Week,  at  Cordova. 
Of  the  great  mosque  she  had  brought  away  a  dream 
of  elaborated  art  never  to  be  displaced ;  and  of  drives 
and  walks,  and  excursions  in  the  foothills  of  the 
sierra  near  the  town,  there  were  memories  that  each, 
day  but  made  more  precious.  Paulina  did  not  admit 
to  herself  that  she  might  have  had  most  of  this 
"preciousness"  without  a  setting  of  Spanish  hills. 

In  the  Court  of  Oranges,  just  outside  the  entrance 
of  the  mosque,  at  the  moment  when  their  hands 
were  upon  the  leathern  curtain  that  hangs  at  the 
temple  door,  they  had  come  upon  two  familiar  fig- 
ures— Judge  Galusha  W.  Treat  and  his  "lady" — 
arm  in  arm,  making  the  rounds  with  a  haughty  cou- 
rier who  was  evidently  administering  information — 
as  Mrs.  Squeers's  brimstone  and  treacle  was  admin- 
istered— by  main  force. 

183 


184  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

"Hello,  judge," said  Roger,  cheerily;  "I  was  think- 
ing of  you  but  a  moment  since.  Here  are  a  lot  of 
Western  newspapers  that  have  followed  me  from 
home,  that  I  thought  you  would  like  to  see — among 
them  a  copy  of  the  '  Sledge ville  Advertiser.'" 

The  judge  stopped  short.  A  beatified  look  over- 
spread his  face,  as  he  stretched  out  his  hand  to  receive 
the  coveted  journal. 

"You  can  go  on  inside,  Malvina,"  he  observed 
gently  to  his  spouse.  "  I  '11  just  sit  down  here  on 
the  edge  of  this  fountain,  and  see  what  the  '  Adver- 
tiser' 's  got  to  say." 

And,  with  that,  the  late  American  lawmaker,  who 
had  arrived  in  Cordova  the  night  before,  and  was  to 
leave  it  that  afternoon,  seated  himself  with  his  back 
to  the  peerless  mosque,  and  plunged  with  instant 
absorption  into  the  columns  that  were  to  reveal  to 
his  homesick  spirit  details  of  more  interest  than  the 
world's  wonder  could  afford ! 

At  Seville  they  had  found  every  room  in  the  hotels 
and  annexes  filled,  at  double  the  ordinary  prices  for 
the  week.  Vehicles  of  all  sorts  were  ordered  from 
the  streets  until  after  the  passing  of  the  last  of  the 
processions  on  Good  Friday  night.  The  squares, 
with  their  rows  of  orange-trees  like  torches  of  golden 
flame,  were  encircled  with  booths  for  the  sale  of  petty 
merchandise  and  cooling  drinks.  In  the  streets  con- 
gregated peasants,  soldiers,  townspeople,  tourists,  and 
visitors,  among  whom  none  trod  more  gladsomely 
than  our  little  group,  drifted  together  by  the  happy 
chance  of  travel  and  reinforced  by  the  welcome  addi- 
tion of  their  friends,  the  Blounts. 


INTERIOR   OF  THE  MOSQUE  AT   CORDOVA. 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  185 

The  days  had  sped  by  on  golden  wings  when,  on 
the  evening  of  Holy  Thursday,  Paulina  sat  on  a  chair 
in  their  box  in  the  open  portico  of  the  town  hall, 
looking  below  her  into  the  paved  square,  around 
which  arose  tall  cream-  and  blue-  and  pink-washed 
houses,  their  balconies,  to  the  top  stories,  crowded 
with  citizens  in  gala  costume. 

These  boxes,  of  temporary  construction,  were  filled 
with  the  best  of  Sevillian  society,  who,  arriving  about 
four  o'clock,  had  spent  the  afternoon  chatting  and 
visiting  each  other,  in  the  intervals  of  the  passing 
of  the  holy  images. 

Of  the  gray  facade  behind  them,  draped  with  gold 
and  scarlet,  the  doors  and  windows  were  filled  with 
spectators.  The  street  beneath  was  a  continually 
shifting  mass  of  people,  all  animation  and  cigar- 
smoke,  till  far  down  one  of  the  narrow  dark  streets 
debouching  into  the  square  was  espied  the  glimmer 
of  lantern  or  taper,  or  the  gleam  of  a  gold-worked 
banner.  Then  silence  fell,  cigars  were  put  away,  hats 
were  removed,  and  necks  were  craned  toward  the 
coming  show. 

The  processions,  which  had  been  passing  intermit- 
tently during  the  past  two  days,  were  best  to  be  seen 
at  twilight,  when  the  electric  lights  had  just  begun  to 
scatter  their  white  radiance  upon  the  dusk,  and  the 
senoras  in  the  balconies  were  becoming  mere  blots 
of  black  against  the  light  backgrounds  of  the  houses. 
Paulina,  who  had  hitherto  refused  to  be  impressed 
by  it,  was  possessed  by  a  new  and  strange  emotion. 
The  spectacle  was  for  her  now  invested  with  true 
religious  mystery.  She  wanted  to  hear  no  jarring 


186  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

sound  as  out  of  the  dusk  of  the  narrow  street  emerged 
the  ivory-white  figure  of  Christ,  Virgin,  angel,  or 
patron  saint,  shrined  in  glittering  tapers,  robed  in 
royal  magnificence,  wearing  jewels  worth  a  king's 
ransom. 

Preceding  the  figures,  or  following  them,  came  Ro- 
man guards  on  horseback,  Nazarenes  bearing  golden 
crosses  and  trumpets,  a  choir  of  angels  afoot,  another 
of  sibyls,  seminarians,  minor  clergy,  Roman  foot- 
soldiers,  guards  with  arms  reversed.  And  all  the  air 
seemed  filled  with  the  sweet,  pathetic  wailing  of  the 
bands. 

As  they  passed  into  the  thronged  square,  there  was 
no  sound  or  stir  in  the  assemblage  standing  bare- 
headed to  receive  them,  unless  a  peasant  woman  cried 
out  in  ecstasy,  or  a  man  lifted  up  his  voice  in  nasal 
chant  of  homage.  "When  the  glittering  army  had 
filed  by,  and  was  again  lost  in  the  gloom  of  a  neigh- 
boring street,  Sir  Piers  turned  to  ask  Paulina  how 
she  had  liked  it,  and  saw  that  tears  were  in  her  eyes. 

"It  is  not  their  religion — it  is  their  music  that 
affects  me,"  she  said.  "You  were  right.  You  knew 
me  better  than  I  knew  myself." 

Throughout  the  night  she  was  again  and  again 
aroused  by  the  thrilling  strain  of  the  dirge  of  the 
Passion.  Once,  as  it  swelled  in  the  street  below,  she 
ran  barefooted  into  her  balcony  and  knelt  there  in 
the  darkness  until  it  died  away.  In  her  overstrained 
state  of  sensibility,  this  act  was  a  sort  of  desperate 
relief.  For,  ah !  what  mischief  had  been  wrought,  by 
the  days  just  passed,  upon  poor  Paulina's  capacity  to 
resist  tender  experience ! 


AN  EREANT  WOOING  187 

BEFORE  ten  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  Easter  Eve, 
Paulina,  taking  the  maid  for  protection,  went  alone 
to  the  Church  of  San  Salvador,  for  the  final  religious 
ceremony,  the  "  Rending  of  the  Veil." 

It  was  her  thought  thus  to  escape  the  others,  to  hie 
her  away  in  solitude,  and  in  the  gloom  of  the  great 
church  to  ponder  over  her  sin  to  Roger  and  to  herself. 
For  now  there  was  no  illusion :  where  Gilchrist  was 
not,  for  Paulina  there  was  no  light.  She  loved  him 
with  a  girl's  fervor ;  and  although  he  had  given  her 
no  further  sign  of  response,  a  look,  a  word,  the  con- 
sciousness that  he  had  her  continually  in  mind,  kept 
her  in  a  delicious  treinblement  whenever  he  was  near. 

Under  the  rose-window  above  the  altarpiece  veiled 
from  sight  by  a  purple  curtain,  some  priests  were 
droning.  Around  her  the  Spanish  women  in  black 
mantillas  came  in  with  prayer-chairs  and  books  and 
beads,  and  fell  upon  their  knees.  Polly,  too,  wanted 
to  pray,  but  she  found  no  words.  Her  heart  said 
only,  "  How  can  I  give  him  up  ? "  and  the  blushes 
burned  upon  her  cheeks.  With  such  thoughts  of  the 
creature,  how  could  she  go  upon  her  knees  to  the 
Creator?  She  felt  forlorn,  ashamed.  At  last  she 
knelt,  and,  murmuring  a  little  prayer,  made  new  reso- 
lutions to  be  strong  and  true  to  Roger.  The  tears 
ran  down  her  cheeks,  but  she  felt  comforted. 

Happening  to  glance  across  the  church,  she  saw,  to 
her  surprise,  May  and  Roger  standing  behind  a  pillar, 
evidently  unable  to  secure  seats.  They  were  close 
together.  Something  in  the  expression  of  May's  face 
when  she  looked  at  him,  answering  some  whispered 
comment,  sent  a  little  dart  of  joy  into  Paulina's 


188  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

armor.  She  had  shut  her  eyes  not  to  look  at  them 
—  all  in  the  church  was  hushed  in  mysterious  silence — 
when  suddenly  there  was  a  mad  jangling  of  bells,  a 
burst  of  music,  the  full  force  of  the  organ  made  the 
dull,  incense-laden  air  tremble  in  every  nook  of  the 
great  interior  —  cannon-rockets  burst  in  the  gallery, 
sending  out  clouds  of  smoke! 

And  then  the  purple  curtain  was  rent  asunder, 
showing  the  light  and  glory  hidden  behind  it.  Lent 
was  past  and  gone!  Easter  was  proclaimed!  The 
world  was  called  on  to  rejoice.  For  every  burdened 
soul  there  was  new  hope,  and  Paulina  took  fresh 
courage. 

While  waiting  for  the  church  to  clear,  she  knew, 
without  looking,  that  May  and  Roger  had  disappeared 
— unaware  of  her  presence.  Coming  out,  she  brushed 
against  Gilchrist,  standing  under  one  of  the  canopied 
Pasios  exhibited  in  the  procession  the  day  before,  and 
looking  inscrutable.  She  had  no  idea  whether  or  not 
he  had  seen  her  until  that  moment. 

"  I  fancied  you  would  be  here,"  he  said,  joining 
her.  "  I  came  to  ask  if  I  may  n't  take  you  to  see 
some  Murillos. 

"  But  May  ? "  asked  Paulina,  hesitating. 

"She — did  n't  you  see  her?  —  has  gone  off  with 
your  cousin,  who  is  really  immensely  kind  to  my  re- 
cent school-girl.  They  are  bound  for  the  Alcazar, 
which  May  likes  especially." 

"  I  think  I  had  better  go  to  my  mother,"  she  said, 
after  a  pause. 

"  No.  Please  don't.  She  has  Lady  Edmund,  May 
has  Woodbury,  and  I  've  got  no  one.  Don't  you 
compassionate  me?" 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  189 

"  Yes,"  said  Polly,  as  lightly  as  she  could.  "  But 
you  will  excuse  me  now.  I  must  really  take  Justina 
back  to  the  hotel." 

LATER  that  day,  Paulina  drove  with  Lucy  Blount 
through  Las  Delicias, — literally,  in  the  dulcet  after- 
noon, a  garden  of  delights, —  with  Guadalquivir  flow- 
ing alongside,  the  walks  on  its  river-bank  shaded 
with  olive  and  orange,  palm  and  Japanese  medlar, 
and  with  rose  and  jasmine  in  its  bosquets ! 

In  the  broad  roadway  open  vehicles,  four  lines 
abreast,  displayed  the  fair  Andalusian  (three  of  them 
on  a  seat,  in  general),  now  attired  in  the  white  man- 
tilla, carrying  the  pink  parasol  laid  away  for  forty 
days;  flowers  at  her  breast,  in  her  lap ;  smiles  on  her 
lip,  in  her  eye ;  nodding,  exchanging  greetings  and 
kisses  of  the  hand  with  the  inmates  of  other  car- 
riages ;  coquettishly  pretending  not  to  have  seen  the 
admirer  who  had  left  the  bridle-path  in  chase  of  her, 
until,  when  his  horse  grazed  her  wheel,  she  cried  out 
in  astonishment ! 

Beauty,  fashion,  rank,  the  lights  of  local  govern- 
ment, foreign  visitors,  all  to-day  were  pressing  in  one 
direction.  The  world  was  on  its  way  to  the  Tablada, 
to  see  the  bulls  destined  for  to-morrow's  sacrifice. 

Some  few  miles  distant  from  the  town,  in  a  field 
surrounded  by  a  deep  trench,  inclosed  in  turn  by  a 
rail  fence,  were  gathered  a  group  of  six  fighting 
bulls,  black,  or  black-and-white,  with  the  twenty 
tame  belled  cattle  who  served  as  their  custodians. 

Upon  the  fence,  having  scrambled  up  a  clay  bank 
to  lean  over  it,  were  seen  grave  officials,  soldiers,  fine 
ladies,  men  and  boys ;  every  one  excitedly  discussing 


190  AN  ERKANT  WOOING 

the  points  and  chances  of  the  heroes  of  the  morrow's 
fray.  Bets  were  laid  and  booked;  a  premonitory 
thrill  made  itself  felt  even  by  the  uninitiated.  Of 
those  to  the  manner  born,  gentle  and  simple  seemed 
to  be  equally  under  the  spell  of  an  hereditary  vendetta, 
thirsting  for  the  blood  of  the  poor  brutes  ! 

Shoulder  to  shoulder  with  the  aristocracy  crowded 
as  many  of  the  lower  orders  as  had  been  able  to  walk, 
or  to  pile  into  donkey-carts  to  drive,  thither.  With 
the  hostility  of  their  fathers  to  the  bull  surging  in 
their  veins,  they  called  out  to  him  derisively,  "  Ole, 
toro !  Bravo,  toro !  Buen  toro  ! "  and  taunted  him  with 
his  approaching  fate  ;  every  bull  looking  back  at  his 
in  suiters  in  sullen  majesty. 

While,  with  the  rest,  Lady  Edmund  and  Paulina 
hung  over  the  fence,  a  caballero  in  the  national  cos- 
tume of  black  and  silver  rode  at  a  gallop  down  upon 
the  assembled  carriages,  then  pulled  up  his  noble 
black  steed,  which  stood  scattering  foam  on  his  own 
shining  coat.  The  handsome  rider,  sitting  his  peaked 
saddle  like  a  centaur,  in  silver  buttons,  with  a  jacket 
cut  short  behind  —  knew  well  the  theatrical  value  of 
this  arrival.  He  was  evidently  some  young  swell  of  the 
sporting  world,  and  the  women  fluttered  and  whispered 
at  sight  of  him.  Upon  the  Americans,  however,  he 
chose  to  bestow  his  most  bewitching  glances. 

"  Saucy  creature  ! "  said  Lucy,  observing  this.  "  I 
am  sorry  we  came  alone,  dear.  But  what  can  he  do 
but  look  at  us  ?  " 

"  Let  us  go  back  to  the  carriage,"  said  Paulina.  "  I 
have  had  enough  of  these  poor  doomed  creatures,  at 
any  rate." 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  191 

"  I  fully  expected  to  find  Ted  and  Gilchrist  here/' 
answered  her  little  ladyship,  gathering  up  her  dainty 
petticoats  to  avoid  the  mire,  as  she  sprang  down  the 
bank.  "  They  said  they  were  coming.  I  thought  it 
would  be  such  fun  to  surprise  them!" 

"Shall  we  wait  awhile  in  the  carriage  until  they 
come  ? "  she  added ;  and  Paulina  acquiesced.  The  two 
young  women,  chatting  together,  had  no  idea  of  the 
attention  they  excited.  Slim,  sallow  young  fellows 
with  black,  sparkling  eyes  drew  near  and  formed  into 
a  ring  around  them,  exchanging  free  comments  upon 
the  strangers.  The  caballero  in  black  and  silver, 
more  bold  than  the  rest,  sprang  from  his  horse,  and, 
leading  the  fiery  but  submissive  creature  by  the  rein, 
came  to  the  side  of  the  carriage,  where,  putting  one 
foot  upon  the  step,  he  addressed  the  ladies  in  a  speech 
that  brought  delight  to  their  less  audacious  admirers. 

"Polly!"  cried  Lucy,  awake  to  the  impertinence, 
"he  is  daring  to  speak  to  us.  My  dear,  look  in 
another  direction,  and  he  will  go  away.  That  is 
what  we  get  for  coming  alone,  I  suppose ;  and  won't 
Ted  give  me  a  wigging  for  it ! " 

But  the  caballero,  now  put  upon  his  mettle  by  the 
encouragement  of  his  audience,  did  not  go  away.  He 
persisted  in  his  attentions,  presuming  so  far  as  to 
take  a  rosebud  from  his  jacket  and  offer  it  to  Pau- 
lina, who  was  nearer  him,  with  a  smile  of  seductive 
assurance. 

"  Drive  on  this  instant,  cochero ! "  cried  Lady  Ed- 
mund, imperiously.  But  the  cabman,  turning  on  his 
box  to  take  in  the  liveliness  of  the  situation,  was  in 
no  hurry  to  disturb  it.  He  replied,  but  what  he  said 


192  AN  ERRANT   WOOING 

the  women  did  not  understand,  and  the  moment 
seemed  to  both  of  them  a  long  one  before  a  car- 
riage, arriving  on  a  line  with  theirs  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, revealed  to  their  delighted  eyes  their  expected 
protectors. 

Paulina  saw  Lucy's  clear  cry  to  her  husband  an- 
swered by  a  sudden  angry  lighting  up  of  Blount's 
face  as  he  turned  and  became  aware  of  the  cause 
of  the  appeal.  But  that  was  in  passing  only.  The 
place  seemed  full  to  her  of  Gilchrist's  fierce  wrath 
when  he,  too,  perceived  their  embarrassment.  What 
became  of  the  ring  of  onlookers  nobody  thought  to 
notice.  At  sight  of  the  two  big  Britons  advancing 
upon  them,  the  "  gentlemen  of  Spain "  melted  into 
thin  air;  and  the  gay  caballero,  with  his  hand  on 
their  carriage  door,  seized  in  the  grip  of  a  Titan,  was 
dashed  by  Gilchrist  into  the  mire  beneath  the  feet  of 
his  own  horse,  who  —  nobler  creature  —  stood  eying 
his  fallen  master  in  silent  sympathy,  without  offering 
to  stir. 

It  was  over  in  a  twinkling,  and  Lucy  was  being 
scolded  roundly  by  her  husband  for  her  temerity  in 
venturing  there  alone  with  Paulina. 

"But,  Ted,  Polly  and  I  were  not  really  afraid  of 
those  men.  What  could  they  do  to  us?  And  I 
thought  it  would  be  so  pleasant  for  you  to  come  on 
us  unexpectedly." 

"  My  dear,  in  married  life  the  unexpected  is  always 
dangerous,"  answered  Blount,  laughing  against  his 
will.  "  And,  if  you  were  not  frightened,  what  did 
that  look  mean  upon  both  your  faces  ?  How  on  earth 
came  you  to  be  here  by  yourselves  ?  " 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  193 

"  We  were  driving  in  Las  Delicias,  and  the  coach- 
man proposed  it,  and  we  thought  it  would  be  a  lark. 
Ted,  this  is  a  horrid  man.  Just  now  he  refused  to 
drive  away,  and  answered  us  most  insolently." 

"I  noticed  him,"  said  Gilchrist;  "and  I  am  reserv- 
ing for  his  jacket  such  a  dusting  as  he  is  not  likely  to 
get  again  for  his  deserts.  But,  as  we  must  all  go  back 
to  town,  and  each  carriage  holds  only  two,  we  will  let 
him  wait  for  his  punishment.  Are  you  ladies  ready 
to  return  ?  " 

""When  you  and  Ted  have  done  looking  at  the 
bulls,"  said  Lucy.  "Then,  if  you  don't  mind,  I  '11 
drive  in  with  you,  Sir  Piers.  The  best  of  husbands 
is  not  good  company  when  he  thinks  it  his  duty  to 
scold  his  wife.  And  I  'd  like  to  know  what  I  married 
for,  if  it  was  n't  to  be  able  to  chaperon  girls." 

"  Try  to  grow  up  first  yourself,  and  then  you  may 
be  able  to  chaperon  girls,"  observed  her  husband. 

"  Oh !  my  dear  Polly,  did  ever  you  see  such  a  rage 
as  Gilchrist  was  in  ? "  whispered  Lucy,  as,  having  left 
the  carriage,  they  stood  near  the  fence  in  the  wake 
of  their  champions,  from  whom  the  crowd  now  kept 
a  respectful  distance.  "  The  vein  in  his  forehead 
has  n't  gone  down  yet,  and  his  eyes  have  blue  sparks 
in  them.  I  wonder  if  Lady  Gilchrist  ever  offended 
him  before  she  ran  away.  One  such  glance  would 
make  me  shrivel  like  Semele.  I  am  glad  Ted's  fore- 
head is  smooth  again.  What  I  like  is  easy  going; 
not  living  harnessed  to  Jupiter,  and  all  that;  don't 
you?  You  will  have  an  easy  husband,  too.  Roger 
is  as  plucky  as  any  man  living,  Billy  says ;  but  he  is 
slow  to  wrath.  You  'd  have  thought  just  now  that 

13 


194  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

Gilchrist  was  the  offended  husband,  and  Ted  the 
friend  who  had  driven  out  with  him  and  happened  in 
on  the  offense.  Look,  Polly ;  there  goes  our  enemy, 
off  at  a  gallop  as  he  came.  He  never  thought  of  re- 
senting Sir  Piers,  did  he?  But  at  night,  in  some 
dusky  corner  of  the  street,  he  would  improve  the  op- 
portunity to  plunge  a  knife  into  him  from  behind. 
Polly,  what 's  the  matter? — you  are  white  as  wax." 

"  I  am  thinking  that  I  don't  want  to  go  to  the  bull- 
fight to-morrow,"  said  Polly,  mendaciously. 

"But  you  must;  you  ;ve  promised.  Ah!  they 
have  seen  enough;  we  may  go  now.  By  the  way, 
Polly,  do  you  envy  our  cabby  the  thrashing  that  is  in 
store  for  him  ?  " 

Paulina  had  a  word  with  Sir  Piers  when  he  helped 
her  into  the  carriage. 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  that  driver  off,"  she  said. 
"  He  is  such  a  poor  apology  for  a  man,  I  think  he  is 
beneath  your  pains." 

"  Not  even  to  please  you,"  he  answered  briefly ;  and 
that  the  offender  came  into  his  own  was  reasonably 
to  be  believed,  although  neither  Lucy  nor  Paulina 
ventured  again  to  touch  upon  the  subject. 

DINNER  was  over  at  the  Hotel  de  Madrid.  The 
people,  crowded  at  the  tables  in  the  great  diuing-hall, 
had  lingered  in  their  seats  to  watch  the  gyrations  of 
a  band  of  student-musicians  clad  in  black,  with  black 
cloaks,  and  three-cornered  hats  decked  each  with  an 
ivory  spoon. 

Singing,  playing,  and  dancing,  they  had  marched 
the  length  of  the  room  and  back,  when,  suddenly, 


AN  ERE  ANT  WOOING  195 

one  of  their  number  burst  away  from  the  rest  and 
indulged  in  a  series  of  somersaults  around  the  tables, 
striking  the  tambourine  with  his  head,  elbow,  knee, 
and  toe  alternately. 

When  the  collection  to  reward  this  feat  of  musical 
agility  had  been  taken  up,  the  guests  sauntered  out 
into  the  patio  of  the  hotel,  which  at  that  time  of 
the  year  contained  the  most  cosmopolitan  crowd  in 
Spain. 

Under  the  cool  plash  of  a  fountain  in  the  center 
grew  a  bed  of  large-leaved  ivy,  trained  close  to  the 
ground ;  and  above  it  were  festooned  vines,  making  a 
tent-shaped  roof.  The  scent  of  the  orange-flowers — 
that  is  the  scent  of  Spain  —  mingled  with  odors  of 
less  fragrant  incense-bearing  plants.  All  this  lighted 
by  electricity  beneath  the  deep  blue  vault  of  the 
Sevillian  night ! 

On  the  inner  walls  of  the  corridor  running  around 
the  court  were  placarded  the  large  red-and-blue  pos- 
ters headed  by  the  familiar  figure  of  the  "  toro,"  and 
setting  forth  the  attractions  of  the  coming  bull-fight 
of  Easter  Sunday — the  greatest  of  the  year.  Alter- 
nating with  these  were  announcements  in  French  and 
Spanish  of  national  dances,  gipsy  dances,  operas, 
theaters,  balls, — all  that  Seville  could  devise  for  the 
entertainment  of  Messieurs  les  voyageurs  etrangers. 
The  suave  manager  at  his  desk  in  a  corner  was  kept 
busy  answering  questions,  and  giving  advice  as  to 
what  form  of  amusement  Messieurs  les  voyageurs 
should  choose. 

In  the  crowd,  strolling,  or  sitting  at  little  tables 
over  after-dinner  coffee,  many  nations  were  repre- 


196  AN  EKE  ANT  WOOING 

sented,  of  whom  America  was,  for  once,  in  the  mi- 
nority in  numbers.  A  Russian  grand  duke,  having 
dined  democratically  in  the  neighborhood  of  some 
opera-singers  and  a  famous  picador,  walked  to  and 
fro,  smoking  and  staring  at  the  women.  Taller  by  a 
head  than  any  man  in  the  throng,  blond  and  distin- 
guished, his  heavy  eyes  looked  wearily  upon  the 
world;  his  half-open  mouth  suggested  vacuity  and 
cruelty.  His  attendant  prince,  a  good-looking  young 
man  with  sly  eyes  and  a  hard  mouth,  talked  with  an 
ex-minister  of  France  to  America.  Some  English- 
women of  title,  wearing  "  the  last  cry "  in  French 
costumes  and  bonnets,  were  sipping  coffee  and 
liqueurs  in  company  with  their  husbands  and  half  a 
dozen  diplomats.  A  "  rare  pale  "  Polish  princess,  in 
black  gauze  and  jet,  held  her  little  court  while  smok- 
ing her  cigarette.  Flower-sellers,  carrying  trays  of 
roses  and  the  big  Sevillian  carnations  that  are  a 
wonder  of  size  and  tint  and  spicery,  penetrated  every- 
where. The  air  was  soft  and  cool,  the  scene  gay  and 
changeful.  Old  Mr.  "Woodbury,  who  had  for  many 
years  spent  his  evenings  in  his  library  at  home,  like 
any  other  respectable  citizen  of  New  York  napping 
behind  "  The  Evening  Post,"  here  sat  bolt  upright, 
wide  awake,  puffing  at  a  good  cigar  (which,  we  may 
observe,  he  had  brought  with  him  to  Spain),  and 
entirely  in  the  spirit  of  the  occasion. 

"  My  dear  papa,"  said  Mrs.  Standish,  who  sat  near 
him,  "  I  wish  you  would  listen  to  me.  I  really  must 
speak  to  you  seriously;  --and  we  are  so  rarely  to 
ourselves." 

Mr.  Woodbury  withdrew  his  eyes,  heaving  a  sigh. 


AN  EEEANT  WOOING  197 

He  had  a  recollection  of  the  days  when  the  mother 
of  Mrs.  Standish  had  prefaced  her  talks  much  in  the 
same  fashion,  and  it  had  never  turned  out  well. 

"  Well,  Rose,  I  'm  listening.  By  George !  she  's  a 
deuced  fine  woman,  that  princess  what 's-her-name, 
that  's  smoking  the  cigarette." 

"  Papa,  at  home  you  would  think  a  woman  quite 
improper  who  was  smoking  a  cigarette." 

"  Just  wait,  Rose,  till  I  order  an  absinthe  gommee. 
I  don't  know  why,  but  it  seems  to  make  me  digest 
my  dinner." 

"  I  am  sure  it  is  bad  for  you,  papa.  But  there,  now 
you  have  ordered  it,  pray  listen  to  me." 

"  Very  well.  Keep  to  the  point ;  don't  wander ;  and 
out  with  it." 

"I  am  beginning  to  be  very  anxious  about  Roger 
and  May  Gilchrist.  Since  Ronda,  when  they  have 
been  together  almost  constantly,  he  is  evidently  much 
absorbed  in  her." 

"  Nonsense ! " 

"  Really  and  truly,  papa." 

"She  's  a  stunner  in  looks,  though  I  prefer  'em 
livelier,  myself,  like  Lucy  Blount  — 

"  I  can't  tell  what 's  come  over  you.  At  home,  it 
would  have  made  you  angry  even  to  suggest  this. 
And  another  matter,  papa.  Do  you  think  it  was 
quite  the  thing,  before  all  those  people  and  your  own 
grandchildren,  when  that  brazen  cachucha  dancer 
threw  her  handkerchief  into  your  lap,  for  you  to  tie 
up  a  piece  of  gold  in  it,  and  throw  it  back  to  her  ?  " 

"  Is  this  what  you  wanted  to  say  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.     But  I  thought  I  would  mention  it." 


198  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"Rose!  Please  understand  that  if  I  tie  my  head 
up  in  a  pocket-handkerchief  and  throw  it  at  a  dancer, 
it 's  my  own  affair.  Did  n't  you  see  everybody  doing 
what  I  did"?  It 's  the  custom  of  the  country.  There ! 
Now,  as  to  these  children,  can't  Polly  hold  on  to  her 
own  sweetheart,  I  'd  like  to  know  ? " 

"  The  trouble  with  Polly  is,  she  's  Polly,  I  suppose. 
She  has  been  always  capricious  with  Roger;  and 
lately  she  's  taken  a  new  turn  of  being  quiet,  not  like 
herself — moping,  and  going  off  alone." 

"No  doubt  indigestion.  Tell  Wilcox  to  give  you 
some  of  those  pellets  I  always  take." 

"  No,  it  's  not  indigestion.  Once  or  twice,  to  try 
her,  I  've  hinted  that  Roger  was  too  much  taken  up 
with  May;  but  then,  instead  of  being  cast  down,  she 
has  asked,  l  Do  you  really  think  so  —  do  you,  mama, 
do  you1?' — and  has  kissed  me,  and  jumped  all  over 
the  room.  She  must  be  hysterical.  And  it  also 
troubles  me  what  poor  Sir  Piers  will  think  if  Roger 
gets  his  daughter  interested  in  him,  and  he  naturally 
can't  speak  to  him,  and  he  — " 

"  Rose,  you  drive  me  distracted  with  your  he's  and 
him's.  Thank  God,  here  comes  Lucy  Blount  to  break 
up  this  doleful  conference.  I  don't  know  why  mem- 
bers of  a  family,  whenever  they  are  left  alone,  should 
settle  down  to  talking  about  dismal  family  topics. 
You  are  a  good  woman,  my  dear,  but  you  are  getting 
more  like  your  mother  every  day  you  live'." 

"  Here  you  are ! "  said  Lady  Edmund  to  Mrs.  Stan- 
dish.  "  I  have  left  the  rest  of  them  in  my  sitting-room 
to  come  to  ask  if  you  will  let  Paulina  go  with  me  to 
the  bull-fight." 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  199 

"  My  dear  Lucy !  — "  said  Mrs.  Standish ;  then  was 
speechless. 

"  I  know  what  you  would  say.  But  Ted  has  taken 
a  box,  and  he  says  we  must  go  to  see  the  crowd  and 
the  parade,  and  we  can  leave  if  we  don't  like  it. 
Roger  and  May  will  go,  and  Sir  Piers  —  if  we  can  get 
him  out  of  that  vortex  of  his  swell  countrywomen 
that  pounced  upon  him  directly  they  came." 

"  My  child,  how  can  a  vortex  pounce  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
"Woodbury,  mildly. 

"  I  don't  know ;  but  I  'm  too  excited  to  care  for 
mixed  metaphors.  I  hope,  dear  Mr.  Woodbury,  you 
don't  think  me  a  bloodthirsty  wretch  for  wanting  to 
see  the  show  that  is  Spain  in  miniature." 

4<I  mean  to  go  myself,"  said  the  valiant  elder. 
"Now,  Rose,  I  know  you  want  to  confer  with  Jus- 
tiua  —  you  always  do  at  this  hour ;  so  leave  me  here 
with  my  little  friend  Lucy.  Sit  here,  Lucy,  by  me. 
It  seems  only  the  other  day  since  I  gave  you  a  wax 
doll,  and  now  you  have  a  live  doll  of  your  own." 

"Dear  angel!"  cried  Lucy;  "and  here  I  am  rollick- 
ing in  foreign  parts,  and  he  is  no  doubt  lying  awake 
in  his  little  crib  in  Biarritz,  and  longing  for  his 
mama." 

"Let  us  hope  he  is  more  wholesomely  employed. 
Lucy,  that  daughter  of  mine  has  been  telling  me  all 
is  not  as  it  should  be  between  my  boy  and  girl.  You 
know,  my  dear,  how  my  old  heart  is  bound  up  in  the 
idea  of  their  match.  You  are  a  sensible  as  well  as  a 
good  woman  —  the  combination,  in  my  experience, 
has  proved  rare.  Tell  me  if  you  think  I  have  any- 
thing to  be  seriously  anxious  about?" 


200  AN  EERANT  WOOING 

"  Polly  —  ?  "  began  Lucy,  who  had  been  taking  a 
few  notes  on  her  own  account. 

"  Roger/'  interrupted  Mr.  Woodbury.  "  He  has 
allowed  himself  to  be  drawn  off  by  a  pair  of  blue 
eyes  and  a  figure  like  a  young  Amazon.  He  might 
as  well  want  to  domesticate  Bartholdi's  Statue  of 
Liberty.  They  would  need  at  least  an  island  to 
themselves.  All  I  can  say  is  that,  if  it  be  true,  I 
shall  take  the  earliest  opportunity  to  express  my 
opinion  of  it  by  a  codicil  to  my  will." 

"  Roger  ? "  repeated  Lucy,  wondering.  "  I  had  not 
thought  of  that." 

"Then,  my  dear,  you  are  not  as  keen  as  I  sup- 
posed. That  is  what  Rose  tells  me  is  taking  place ; 
and,  though  1 '11  be  hanged  if  I  give  her  the  satisfac- 
tion of  knowing  it,  the  idea  drives  me  mad.  My 
little  Polly  shaVt  be  played  fast-and-loose  with,  and 
made  to  suffer  for  Roger's  capers.  If  we  ever  get  to 
a  place  where  I  can  do  business,  I  '11  right  her,  and 
put  her  where  any  man  will  be  proud  to  ask  for  her. 
That  young  jackanapes !  Why,  Lucy,  he  was  the 
apple  of  my  eye !  This  very  night  I  '11  make  a  mem- 
orandum, and  have  Wilcox  and  Grillson  witness  it ! " 

Lucy,  aware  of  the  old  gentleman's  fashion  of 
quick  climbing  from  good  nature  to  wrath,  knew  also 
that  the  habit  of  the  family  was  to  let  the  access  wear 
itself  away.  The  valet,  passing  just  then,  was  bid  by 
his  master  to  escort  him  to  his  room,  whence  Mr. 
Woodbury  issued  no  more  that  night. 

At  the  same  moment  Lady  Edmund  observed  Gil- 
christ  leave  the  group  of  ladies  at  a  little  marble 
table  opposite,  and  make  his  way  in  her  direction. 


AN  ERRANT   WOOING  201 

"  I  hope  Mr.  Woodbury  is  not  ailing.  But  I  can't 
regret  his  departure,  as  it  gives  me  an  opportunity  I 
wanted." 

"  More  developments ! "  said  Lucy  to  herself,  as  she 
made  place  for  him  on  an  iron  bench;  and  they 
affected  to  listen  to  the  guitars  of  the  Spanish  stu- 
dents, who,  after  a  brief  intermission,  had  begun 
their  concert  over  again. 

"I  hardly  know  how  to  broach  it;  but  I  need 
advice  —  a  woman's  advice  —  your  advice." 

"  You  are  good  to  choose  me,"  she  said  heartily. 

"  Since  your  sympathy  with  my  poor  May  —  for  she 
told  me  how  tenderly  you  met  my  request  to  show 
her  her  mother's  portrait  at  Wooton  Magna  —  I  have 
cherished  an  idea  that  you,  better  than  any  one, 
would  understand  my  present  predicament." 

"I  think,"  Lucy  said,  with  much  sweetness,  "you 
need  hardly  tell  me  more." 

"  Then,  with  your  keen  intuition,  you  have  divined?" 

"If  you  mean  that  your  child  needs  comfort  and 
sympathy  now  —  " 

"  May  ? "  he  said  in  surprise.  "  She  is  happier  than 
she  ever  was  in  her  life.  Why  should  she  not  be  ? 
With  such  a  companion  of  her  own  sex,  near  her  own 
age ;  with  new  amusements,  pleasures,  scenes  —  oh,  I 
think  there  is  nothing  to  ask  for  May." 

"  It  has  not  occurred  to  you,"  said  Lucy,  hesitating 
visibly,  "  that  it  would  be-  well  not  to  expose  her  to 
so  much  of  the  society  of  a  very  attractive  young 
man  ?  " 

"I  give  you  my  word,"  he  replied  unaffectedly, 
"  the  idea  never  entered  my  head.  May  is  a  child, — 


202  AN  EERANT  WOOING 

a  mere  child, —  not  like  the  girls  of  your  country  at 
her  age." 

"Nevertheless,  it  is  to  think  of,"  said  Lady  Ed- 
mund, who  was  now  in  her  element  as  a  confidante. 
"  The  risk  involves  so  many  others,  too.  Take  Roger 
himself,  to  begin  with  —  " 

"Woodbury  care  for  May — Woodbury  !  When 
he  has  the  glorious  privilege  of  loving  Paulina 
Standish  ?  Never  ! " 

"Oh,  my  dear  friend,  so  that  is  your  point  of 
view ! "  Lucy  wanted  to  cry  out.  But  she  read  that 
in  his  face  which  silenced  levity.  It  was  what  she 
had  never  beheld  in  any  man's  face  before.  She  saw 
that  with  him  this  was  like  a  matter  of  life  and  death. 

"  I  don't  mean  to  trouble  you,"  he  went  on,  "  with 
hearing  anything  more  than  that  I  love  Miss  Stan- 
dish —  that  I  have  no  right  to  tell  her  so  —  that  I 
thought  myself  stronger  than  I  am,  and  must  there- 
fore break  away  from  this  party  for  good  and  all. 
You  know  Mr.  "Woodbury  intends  to  go  from  here  to 
Granada?" 

"  Yes.    We  go  with  them." 

"  I  think  the  old  gentleman  has  rather  counted  on 
my  being  on  hand  to  take  him  about  the  place,  and 
so  on ;  at  least  we  had  made  a  tryst  to  meet  there.  If 
I  am  absent,  it  will  seem  like  poor  hospitality,  and  I 
want  you  to  help  me  out  of  the  difficulty." 

"  And  May  ? " 

"  I  meant  to  let  her  go  back  to  our  little  domicile. 
Dame  Josefa,  my  housekeeper,  will  take  every  care  of 
her ;  and  I  would  not  punish  May  for  my  own  folly 
by  separating  her  too  soon  from  those  who  have 
made  her  life  so  bright." 


AN  EERANT  WOOING  203 

"I  am  woefully  disappointed,"  said  Lucy,  half 
pouting.  "  I  had  thought  of  the  transfer  of  our  de- 
lightful party  to  Granada  with  real  pleasure.  But 
of  course  I  shall  help  you.  Let  May  go  and  stay  at 
the  hotel,  there,  with  me  —  as  my  guest  — my  child 
—  till  you  return.  Thus  I  can  look  out  for  all  con- 
tingencies." 

"This  is  the  best  kindness,"  he  said,  lifting  her 
hand  in  foreign  fashion  to  his  lips.  "  I  shall  remain 
here  over  to-morrow,  and  on  Monday  shall  vanish  at 
cockcrow.  When  you  are  ready  to  leave  Granada,  I 
shall  know  it,  never  fear ;  and  May  can  then  go  back 
to  the  care  of  old  Josefa,  whose  only  fault  is  over- 
strictness,  till  I  rejoin  her.  You  will  interpose  your 
tact  between  me  and  the  dear  old  man  and  Mrs. 
Standish.  I  should  not  like  them  to  think  ill  of  me. 
As  for  Miss  Standish,  I  must  see  her  once  more 
alone ;  and  then  —  " 

"  Is  that  safe  ? " 

"  One  may  say  good-by  to  the  dying,"  he  answered. 
"  For  her,  after  this,  I  must  be  dead." 

"  You  make  me  shiver,"  said  poor  little  sympathetic 
Lucy,  running  away  to  her  bedroom  for  a  good  cry. 


XII 


T  was  a  brilliant  Easter  dav,  clear 

»-  7 

and  cool,  when,  punctually  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon, —  for  the 
bull-fight  is  the  one  thing  on  time 
in  Spain, —  our  friends  from  the 
Hotel  de  Madrid  joined  the  throng 
pouring  from  all  parts  of  the  town  into  the  streets 
leading  to  the  Plaza  de  Toros. 

The  crowd  did  not  suggest  a  Parisian  multitude 
swarming  into  the  Bois  for  the  Grand  Prix  or  the 
Bataille  de  Fleurs ;  or  yet  an  English  throng  in  Hyde 
Park  on  Derby  day;  or  an  Italian  populace  in  the 
Via  Nazionale  on  a  holiday  in  Rome.  Underneath 
all  their  jollity  and  civility  lay  hidden  the  Goth  and 
Vandal,  with  a  touch  of  Arab,  -that  make  up  the  An- 
dalusian  of  to-day ;  and  in  their  gay  humor  was  the 
suggestion  of  a  savage  zest  for  blood. 

Of  the  gentlefolks  in  the  carriages,  the  men  wore 
ceremonial  black,  the  women  light  dresses  and  white 
gloves,  with  lorgnons  and  bouquets.  The  poor  peo- 
ple, hurrying  on  foot,  with  their  shirts  and  bodices 
and  sashes  and  head-kerchiefs  of  blue,  orange,  and 
cardinal, —  some  of  them  having  pinched  in  food 
and  economized  in  tobacco  for  weeks  to  scrape  to- 

204 


AN  EERANT  WOOING  205 

gether  money  enough  to  buy  a  ticket, —  filled  the 
pavements  and  surged  into  the  streets.  The  murmur 
of  their  combined  voices  swelled  into  an  animated 
chorus  as  they  came  near  the  goal  of  all  their  hopes. 

Our  party  entered  the  vast  cream-colored  building 
of  the  Plaza  by  one  of  its  many  doorways ;  there  was 
no  confusion,  all  being  kept  in  order  by  civic  guards. 
On  the  stairs  of  stone  leading  to  their  box  more  than 
one  heart  among  them  quailed  and  repented  itself  of 
coming,  yet  yearned  with  a  mightier  curiosity  to  see 
what  was  inside. 

The  boxes  into  which  the  middle  tiers  of  the  amphi- 
theater are  divided,  proved  to  be,  at  any  rate,  com- 
fortably remote  from  the  field  of  conflict  —  yonder 
big  ring  of  golden  sand,  half  in  sun,  half  in  shadow, 
surrounded  by  palpitating  thousands  assembled  to 
see  man's  skill  matched  against  a  brute's  strength 
and  cunning. 

The  scene  was  an  extraordinary  realization  of  the 
old  classic  picture  dreamed  of  by  every  scholar  of 
Roman  history  —  the  wide  ellipse,  the  empty  arena, 
the  row  upon  row  of  expectant  faces,  the  blue  sky 
above.  Away  to  the  left,  the  lovely  old  Arab  tower 
of  the  Giralda,  with  its  filigree  belfry  and  the  circling 
hawks  and  pigeons,  soared  to  heaven, —  the  echo  of 
its  chimes,  rung  at  three  o'clock,  having  but  just  died 
upon  the  ear.  The  odor  of  flowers  worn  or  carried 
by  the  women  breathed  of  the  south. 

Water-sellers,  crying  "Agua,  agua,  limpia  y  fria!" 
venders  of  sweets  and  oranges;  newsboys  with  ex- 
tras containing  the  latest  news  of  the  performers; 
sellers  of  programs  divided  by  lines,  within  which 


206  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

were  to  be  registered  the  thrusts  of  swords,  the  blows 
of  spears,  the  wounds,  the  falls, —  lifted  their  voices 
above  the  din  of  the  crowd. 

Around  the  outskirts  of  the  arena  —  from  which 
spectators  were  shut  off  by  a  double  barrier,  with 
blind  screens  inside,  where  the  toreador  flies  for  ref- 
uge from  the  bull  —  some  of  the  minor  actors  were 
unfolding  cloaks,  trying  spears,  allowing  the  audi- 
ence to  admire  them  to  its  heart's  content. 

And  at  last  the  thrilling  moment  had  arrived  when, 
the  chief  municipal  officer  having  taken  his  seat 
where  the  king  sits  when  there  is  one,  the  doors  op- 
posite him  opened.  The  procession  came  into  the 
ring.  It  was  led  by  a  battalion  of  soldiers  preceded 
by  a  band  of  music.  Following,  came  the  pica- 
dores,  mounted  spearmen  who  wore  broad  felt  hats 
and  leather  jackets  and  trousers;  their  legs  —  with  a 
precaution  handed  down  from  classic  times  —  being 
bandaged  over  iron  greaves;  their  spears,  sixteen 
feet  in  length,  wrapped  in  tow  till  but  an  inch  of 
the  point  was  left  visible! 

The  chulos  next.  These  were  the  light  skirmishers 
of  the  ring,  youngsters  in  training  for  higher  feats. 
Glittering  with  gold  and  colors,  their  mission  was  to 
fly  everywhere  at  once  to  draw  off  the  bull  from  an 
endangered  toreador.  Trailing  their  gay  cloaks,  or 
flaunting  them  before  the  bull's  horns,  or  making 
springs  of  marvelous  agility  into  the  air,  they  were 
the  most  picturesque  adjunct  of  the  show. 

After  the  chulos  walked  the  darlings  of  the  popu- 
lace,—  the  three  espadas,  or  killers  of  the  bull, — 
whose  appearance  was  the  signal  for  shouts  and 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  207 

cries  of  applause,  encouragement,  individual  remark. 
The  hitherto  quiet  audience  took  fire  at  sight  of 
them !  And  lastly,  el  tiro,  the  mule-team,  three 
abreast,  covered  with  bells,  embroidery,  and  tassels, 
trailing  behind  them  the  iron  hook  to  be  used  in 
dragging  off  the  slain  bulls  and  horses. 

Dazzling  in  finery,  they  passed  proudly  around  the 
ring,  and  under  the  president's  box  stopped  to  salute. 
A  trumpet  sounded.  The  alguacil,  a  little  policeman 
smothered  beneath  his  hat  and  feathers  and  black 
velvet  cloak,  who  brought  up  the  procession  and  was 
a  butt  with  the  crowd,  caught  the  key  of  the  bull's 
pen,  thrown  down  to  him  by  the  president.  This  was 
an  official  permission  for  the  sport  to  begin.  The  pro- 
cession went  out  again,  leaving  in  the  ring  the  pica- 
dores  and  a  few  chulos.  There  was  a  halt,  when  every 
heart  beat  fast.  The  doors  leading  to  the  bull's 
quarters  flew  open.  Another  pause,  more  exciting 
than  the  first.  A  little  jet-black  fellow  with  sharp 
horns,  astonished  rather  than  resentful,  trotted  from 
his  dark  cell  into  the  ring,  wondering  why  the  sun- 
shine was  so  bright! 

Perhaps  this  desert  of  hot  golden  sand,  with  the 
palpitating  multitude  around  it,  made  him  long  for 
his  own  green  pasture,  his  own  cool  rivulet,  in  Utrera, 
where  he  was  bred.  But  at  once  every  instinct  was 
merged  in  a  fury  of  self-defense ;  for  he  was  set  upon 
by  the  spear  of  a  picador,  spurring  a  wretched  horse 
blindfolded  to  his  fate. 

Upon  the  first  act  of  the  national  drama  of  Spain, 
as  now  seen  at  the  headquarters  of  bull-fighting, 
it  were  best  to  let  fall  a  curtain  thick  and  dark. 


208  AN  EKRANT  WOOING 

It  is  hideous,  unforgivable,  unforgetable.  No  Anglo- 
Saxon  who  loves  the  horse  can  look  on  it  with- 
out a  fierce  impulse  of  championship  for  helpless 
creatures,  followed  by  one  of  shame  for  himself  for 
being  there.  The  women  present,  including  as  a  rule 
the  better  grade  of  Spaniards,  hid  their  eyes  behind 
fans,  and  sat  in  sick  silence  till  the  cries  of  the 
audience  and  the  new  sound  of  the  trumpet  an- 
nounced the  carnage  at  an  end.  The  horrors  they 
might  have  seen  during  the  ten  opening  minutes  of 
the  fight  were  being  dragged  away  by  the  jangling 
mule-team,  leaving  blood-tracks  behind  them.  Men 
sprinkled  fresh  sand,  and  the  second  act  was  called. 

"  Is  it  over  ? "  gasped  Paulina  behind  her  fan. 

"Look  now j  you  will  see  nothing  but  the  chnlos 
teasing  the  bull,"  spoke  Blount,  who  stood  behind 
her.  "  This  is  the  ladies'  part  of  the  show.  Hand- 
some fellows,  are  n't  they,  and  extraordinarily  light- 
footed.  Ha !  that  was  a  close  one  !  The  bull  had  him, 
almost !  But  he  's  off  over  the  paling,  and  the  bull 
goes  for  the  other  fellow,  who  waved  his  cloak  just 
in  time.  There  are  the  banderilleros.  Bueno!  bueno! 
Well  done,  banderillero !  Neatly  planted,  by  Jove ! 
I  saw  a  man  at  Madrid  sit  in  his  chair  till  the  boll's 
horns  dipped,  and  then  he  drove  the  darts  into  the 
creature's  neck  and  escaped,  leaving  the  chair  on  the 
bull's  horns.  Bravo !  bravo !  Capital,  is  n't  it,  Miss 
Standish  !  » 

"  It  makes  my  heart  ache,  if  this  is  the  best,"  an- 
swered Polly,  shutting  her  eyes,  and  again  retiring 
behind  her  fan — a  gay  fan  presented  by  Blount  for 
the  occasion. 


AN  EKRANT  WOOING  209 

"I  can't  say  you  are  getting  much  of  the  specta- 
cle," he  said ;  and  then  he  found  himself  too  much 
interested  in  the  ring  to  complete  the  work  of  con- 
soling a  nervous  girl. 

And,  at  last,  play  was  finished ;  the  bull,  gashed, 
panting,  desperate,  had  done  his  best  to  make  a  Sevil- 
lian  holiday.  His  death-trumpet  was  sounded. 

Paulina  looked,  as  they  urged  her  to  do,  at  the 
introduction  to  the  final  act.  The  espada,  the  man  of 
doom,  walked  into  the  ring,  stopped  under  the  presi- 
dent's box,  and,  holding  his  sword  upright,  dashed 
his  three-cornered  plush  cap  upon  the  ground,  and 
swore  the  bull-fighter's  oath  to  do  his  duty  or  die. 

Then,  with  magnificent  aplomb,  smiling  amid  the 
frantic  applause  of  the  audience,  he  advanced  to  meet 
his  victim,  his  band  of  chulos  keeping  back  that  he 
might  win  glory  single-handed.  Again  and  again  he 
escaped  death  by  a  hair's  breadth.  Alone,  blade  aloft, 
he  tempted  the  now  raging  bull  to  charge,  striving  to 
get  him  in  the  right  attitude  to  receive  the  death- 
stroke. 

There  was  an  interval  of  strained  silence  in  the 
multitude,  broken  now  and  then  by  a  gasp  of  relief 
or  a  cry  of  encouragement.  They  were  not  going  to 
waste  themselves  in  expression,  those  Spaniards,  while 
such  good  work  as  that  was  going  on  in  the  arena. 

Face  to  face,  man  and  brute  stood  eying  each 
other.  It  seemed  impossible  that  the  espada  could 
get  away.  He  was  at  the  mercy  of  his  foe.  In  vain 
the  chulos  rushed  forward  and  tried  to  divert  the 
bull.  The  bull's  eyes  were  glazing, -he  was  dying  by 
inches,  but  he  knew  what  he  was  about,  and  meant  to 
u 


210  AN   EKRANT   WOOING 

avenge  himself.  His  horns  were  lowered ;  the  crowd 
uttered  a  deep,  long  groan ;  they  were  about  to  lose 
their  pride, —  their  darling, —  when  suddenly  the  es- 
pada's  right  arm  made  a  quick  movement  5  his  true 
sword  plunged  to  its  hilt  behind  the  bull's  shoulder- 
blade;  the  bull  staggered,  fell  on  his  knees,  rolled 
on  his  side — dead! 

Then,  mad  rejoicing  !  The  crowd  sprang  upon  its 
feet,  roared  and  roared  again.  The  band  played,  the 
women  waved  handkerchiefs ;  the  espada,  standing 
beside  the  carcass  of  the  bull,  wiped  his  sword,  and 
with  a  spring  in  his  foot  and  a  proud  light  in  his  eye 
made  the  circuit  of  the  arena,  bowing  and  smiling. 
On  this  final  round,  the  men  threw  their  hats  into  the 
ring  at  his  feet  as  he  passed,  a  compliment  acknow- 
ledged by  the  espada  by  throwing  them  back  again. 
Purses,  jewels,  flowers,  palms,  fans,  handkerchiefs, 
"blessings,  caressing  epithets,  were  showered  on  him. 
And,  while  this  went  on,  the  other  valiant  fighter, 
who  lay  already  forgotten  on  the  sand  in  a  pool  of 
his  own  blood,  was  hauled  out,  his  carcass  to  be  dis- 
posed of  in  a  neighboring  market-place. 

Three  times  these  scenes  were  repeated.  At  the 
close  of  the  third  corrida,  or  course,  a  mishap  befell 
the  espada,  no  less  a  personage  than  "  El  Gallo  "  him- 
self, the  favorite  of  the  day.  Failing  to  kill  the  bull 
in  the  time  allotted,  the  great  espada  refused  to  obey 
the  trumpet  commanding  him  to  desist.  A  scene 
of  extraordinary  confusion  ensued.  Gomez,  reckless 
at  the  threatened  loss  of  honor,  of  disgrace  in  his 
high  position,  kept  lunging  savagely  at  the  bull, 
which  refused  to  die.  The  chulos,  eager  to  save  the 


AN  ERRANT  WOOINO  211 

good  name  of  their  chief,  closed  around  him  and 
abetted  his  work  of  slaughter.  At  once  the  cry  arose 
from  the  angry  audience :  "  To  prison  with  them ! 
To  prison!"  The  belled  oxen,  summoned  to  decoy 
the  dying  victim  out  of  the  arena,  were  not  allowed 
by  the  toreadors  to  approach  the  bull.  "With  stabs 
and  thrusts  Gomez  succeeded  in  putting  an  end  to 
the  miserable  wretch ;  but,  as  he  crashed  over  amid 
the  groans  and  curses  of  the  crowd,  a  file  of  soldiers 
marched  into  the  ring  and  took  the  offending  espada 
and  his  followers  into  custody. 

As  they  crossed  the  arena  under  arrest,  no  hand 
was  raised  in  sympathy.  With  bent  heads  and 
frowning  brows,  their  gold  and  frippery  serving  to 
accentuate  their  changed  position,  the  little  proces- 
sion disappeared  from  view. 

Then  arose  a  tumult  of  opposing  opinions  from 
the  audience.  Shouts,  cries,  disputes  were  heard ; 
the  proceedings  stopped.  Men,  leaving  their  seats, 
swarmed  in  the  passageways.  The  gallery  gods 
above  showed  their  interest  by  casting  into  the  ring 
the  benches  on  which  they  had  been  seated. 

At  this  crisis,  Paulina,  whose  head  ached  with  her 
long-repressed  emotion,  whispered  to  her  grandfa- 
ther, who  sat  next  to  her,  that  she  meant  to  take  the 
courier  and  go  back  to  the  hotel.  Their  place  being 
near  an  exit,  Mr.  Woodbury  acquiesced,  and,  unno- 
ticed by  the  others,  Polly  effected  her  retreat. 

On  the  stairs  she  was  overtaken  by  Gilchrist,  who, 
bidding  the  man  return  to  tell  Mr.  "Woodbury  in 
whose  hands  his  young  lady  had  been  left,  took  her 
arm  within  his  own. 


212  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"  I  saw  you  were  suffering/'  he  said. 

"But  you  had  left  our  box." 

"Only  to  stand  near  by  where  I  could  look  at  — 
but,  now  we  are  in  the  air,  you  will  be  all  right 
again.  Ha!  here  come  the  prisoners  —  we  '11  stand 
back  till  they  have  passed." 

"  What  will  be  done  to  them  ? "  she  asked,  as  the 
melancholy  file  went  by. 

"Nothing  very  serious,  I  fancy.  Gomez  will  be 
released  on  parole,  no  doubt.  But  they  will  have  to 
hurry  on  another  bull  to  quell  the  riot  that 's  brew- 
ing inside.  Here  comes  a  rather  jolly  little  trap. 
Shall  we  take  it?" 

Polly,  in  whom  there  was  no  speech,  acquiesced, 
and  they  got  into  a  smart  open  carriage,  with  a  horse 
belled  and  ribboned  in  honor  of  the  day,  and  a  driver 
with  red  sash  and  pointed  hat. 

"  Need  you  go  back  to  the  hotel  ? "  he  asked,  yield- 
ing to  a  sudden  impulse.  "  It  is  a  lovely  day.  Why 
not  come  for  a  drive  ?  Surely,  your  mother  will  not 
expect  you." 

"  She  had  settled  down  to  write  letters  to  '  all  the 
family,'"  Paulina  answered,  smiling.  "And  as  mama 
1  describes '  a  good  deal,  it  will  take  some  time.  Do 
you  really  think  we  might  go  for  a  turn  somewhere 
in  the  fresh  air?" 

"  Why  not  ?  English  and  Americans  do  here  what 
natives  may  not.  I  think  we  may  defy  the  Sevillian 
Mrs.  Grundy  on  this  last  day  that  we  have  together." 
And,  leaning  forward,  he  gave  orders  to  the  driver, 
who  cracked  his  whip  with  sufficient  vehemence  to 
serve  for  a  four-in-hand. 


AN  ERRANT   WOOING  213 

"I  honor  Queen  Isabella  more  than  ever  for  re- 
fusing to  preside  over  bull-fights,"  Polly  said  by  and 
by.  "  Where  are  we  going,  may  I  ask  ? " 

"  To  Italica.  Do  you  not  remember  I  pledged  you 
in  Tangier  to  let  me  be  your  guide  there?  It  is  a 
four-mile  drive,  only." 

"  Italica  was  —  is  — " 

"An  ancient  Iberian  town,  called  the  old  Seville, 
the  birthplace  of  Trajan  and  Adrian  and  Theodosius. 
The  Romans  filled  it  with  great  buildings  and  beau- 
tiful works  of  art ;  but,  when  the  river  got  up  out  of 
its  bed  and  devastated  it,  the  Moors  took  Seville  as 
a  safer  site  for  a  capital,  and  Italica  has  been  long 
in  ruins.  Don't  you  remember  they  told  you  at  the 
Casa  de  Pilatos  how  Trajan's  ashes  were  brought 
back  in  an  urn  from  Italy  by  a  Spanish  viceroy,  who 
set  them  on  a  shelf,  intending  to  remove  them  to 
Italica ;  but  a  servant  by  mistake  emptied  the  great 
Trajan  into  the  courtyard,  'not  to  be  gathered  up 
again '  ?  " 

"  I  remember.  I  think  Trajan  must  have  reap- 
peared in  that  sumptuous  vine  of  red  roses  in  the 
inner  courtyard  of  'Pilate's  house.'  And  what  are 
we  to  see  at  Italica?" 

"  Simply  one  of  the  most  exquisite,  pathetic  ruins 
of  old  Rome  in  existence, — an  amphitheater  so  lovely 
in  decay,  one  could  not  wish  it  otherwise.  If  you 
knew  Spanish,  I  should  give  you  a  copy  of  Rioja's 
ode,  'The  Ruins  of  Italica,'  to  read.  To  my  own 
taste,  neither  of  the  other  Roman  amphitheaters  —  at 
Aries,  Nimes,  Verona,  or  those  in  Sicily, —  not  even 
the  Colosseum  —  is  as  affecting  as  the  spot  we  are 


214  AN  EEKANT  WOOING 

going  to  see.  At  the  Colosseum  there  are  always 
the  personal  conductor,  the  tourists,  the  peddlers  to 
break  the  spell.  At  Italica  an  gitano  lurks  in  the  ruins 
to  ask  for  alms ;  a  bird  or  a  lizard  disappears  as  you 
advance.  Manuela,  as  she  stands  amid  waving  grass 
and  flowers  in  the  green  ellipse,  is  the  one  token  of 
modern  life." 

"  Manuela !    Who  is  she  ? " 

"You  will  see,"  he  said,  laughing;  and  they  talked 
of  things  outside  their  own  personality  as  the  car- 
riage passed  between  fields  of  poppies  and  iris,  groves 
of  olive  and  hedges  of  prickly  pear,  keeping  the 
grape-bloom  of  the  Sierra  Morena  to  their  right. 

They  left  their  vehicle  in  a  lane  beyond  the  old 
convent,  where  a  little  maid  of  ten  came  tripping  out 
of  a  small  house  to  receive  them,  assisting  both  with 
tremendous  importance  to  descend,  and  then  setting 
to  rout  a  half-dozen  children  who  had  run  in  the  dust 
of  the  wheels,  for  more  than  a  mile,  offering  nosegays 
for  sale. 

Such  a  competent  small  person  was  Manuela 
Fuentes  Manfredi  (so  confessed),  one  might  have 
supposed  her  the  sole  occupant  of  the  small  house  and 
sole  guardian  of  the  ruins.  She  was  attended  by  a  fat 
mongrel  of  a  cur  she  called  Fortune,  and,  after 
escorting  the  visitors  to  the  heights  whence  they 
could  obtain  the  best  view  of  the  amphitheater,  she 
stood  beside  them,  sighing,  and  exclaiming  —  for 
what  reason  they  could  not  understand  —  "Ave 
Maria"  after  every  sigh.  When  they  had  begun  to 
discover  that  her  sighs  were  apparently  mere  physi- 
cal efforts  and  without  emotion,  Manuela  caught  sight 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  215 

of  her  father,  a  swarthy  peasant,  his  head  bound  in  a 
red  handkerchief,  coming  over  the  hill,  and  ran  to 
meet  him. 

"  I  shall  tip  Senor  Manfredi  to  keep  his  distance," 
said  Gilchrist.  "  I  don't  mind  Manuela ;  she  is  a  pic- 
ture in  herself.  How  could  that  little  witch  know 
the  artistic  value  of  a  poppy  stuck  in  her  black  hair, 
and  the  buttercups  in  her  brown  bodice  ?  " 

They  climbed  to  the  last  step  visible  on  the  far  side 
of  the  ruins,  "rock-ribbed  and  ancient  as  the  sun," 
the  grass  overgrowing  them  thick  with  flowers  and 
sweet  herbaceous  plants.  Then  Manuela  led  the 
way  into  the  subterranean  galleries,  chambers  for 
wounded  gladiators,  and  beasts'  dens,  brought  to 
light  in  the  latest  excavations ;  and  when  they  sat  to 
rest  she  seated  herself  patiently  at  a  little  distance, 
Fortune  falling  asleep  from  very  fatness  as  he  leaned 
against  her  knee,  her  lap  full  of  the  blossoms  she  was 
making  into  a  bouquet  for  Polly. 

"  What  peace  —  what  solitude  ! "  said  Paulina,  fol- 
lowing a  silence.  "  After  what  we  have  just  seen  at 
the  Plaza  de  Toros  —  may  I  soon  forget  it !  —  this  is 
heavenly." 

"  How  it  adds  to  a  scene  to  visit  it  with  the  one  you 
would  —  you  would  —  choose  of  all  others  to  —  asso- 
ciate with  it  —  "  he  said,  hesitating  in  his  selection  of 
words.  "  That  is  the  reason  why  I  never  go  back  to 
Italy. 

"The  whole  country  is  like  a  Golgotha  of  bitter 
memories,"  he  resumed,  after  a  pause.  "  When  May 
asked  me  if  I  would  not  take  her  to  Italy,  I  said  i  No.' 
God  help  me !  I  could  not  tell  her  why." 


216  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

"Ave  Maria,"  sighed  Manuela  to  her  dog;  but 
Polly  said  not  a  word. 

"Why  should  I  tell  you  this  now?  Perhaps  be- 
cause I  think  of  you  as  a  sail  at  sea  that  by  morning 
will  have  sunk  below  the  verge.  I  have  often  wished 
I  might  presume  on  your  constant  kindness  to  talk 
a  little  to  you  about  myself,"  he  resumed  presently ; 
"  and  then  the  idea  of  the  difference  between  us  has 
arisen  to  depress  my  would-be  confidence.  You  are 
a  child,  believing  and  ardent,  the  world  before  you  a 
primrose  path  in  which  I  can  have  no  share." 

"  And  yet  it  was  your  '  primrose  path  '  I  walked  in 
first,"  she  said,  with  a  half-wistful,  half-playful  smile. 

"  You  remember,  still  ;  you  liked  the  little  drawing 
I  sent  you  by  old  Clichett,  when  I  wanted  nothing  so 
much  as  to  carry  it  myself  and  see  if  I  could  win 
that  same  smile  you  have  just  given  me ! " 

"It  hangs  —  it  did  hang,"  she  corrected  herself, 
"on  my  wall  at  home." 

"And  where,  pray,  have  you  put  the  poor  thing 
while  you  are  off  conquering  new  —  old  worlds?" 

"It  is  —  I  have  it  with  me,"  she  said  steadily, 
although  with  a  little  blush. 

"  That  is  more  than  I  dared  hope.  It  is  doing  an 
inferior  artist  honor  beyond  his  merits.  The  only  part 
of  it  I  valued  was  a  little  motif  repeated  again  and 
again  in  my  sketch-books  till  I  make  it  now  mechani- 
cally when  my  pencil  falls  upon  paper." 

"  When  you  are  racking  your  brains  for  '  mere  vers 
de  societe' !  When  you  are  a  'jessamy  kind  of  a 
man,'  seeking  diversion  where  you  can  find  it!"  she 
retorted  quickly. 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  217 

"  That 's  like  you.  When  a  fellow 's  at  your  mercy, 
you  go  at  him  horse,  foot,  and  dragoons.  With  you 
I  never  feel  stagnant !  " 

"What  a  word  to  express  a  healthy-minded 
person ! " 

"  I  pray  God  I  am  healthy-minded  now.  But  there 
were  years  when  I  wandered  outcast,  solitary,  dwell- 
ing on  dead  joys  and  ruined  hopes.  Those  were  not 
years  I  care  to  remember  or  speak  of,  least  of  all  to 
you.  They  are  lived  down,  if  not  forgotten.  They 
can  never  come  back  to  me  again.  But  they,  if  there 
were  nothing  else,  would  put  a  barrier  between  me 
and  —  such  as  you." 

"  I  know  of  your  trouble,"  said  Paulina,  with  wo- 
manly simplicity.  "  I  often  wondered  if  it  had  led 
you  to  mistrust — others." 

"If  I  do  not,  I  am  saved  by  temperament.  I 
have  n't  a  morbid  spot  in  me,  I  hope  and  believe. 
But  at  first  I  used  to  fancy  myself  like  that  bull  in 
the  arena  to-day — keeping  on  my  feet  after  I  got  the 
death- wound.  Since  then  it 's  been  hard  to  have  en- 
tire confidence  in  a  toreador  coming  toward  one  wav- 
ing a  red  muleta  that  conceals  a  sword." 

"What  a  bitter  comparison!"  she  said,  feeling  a 
little  chill  around  the  heart. 

"  There  was  a  long  time  when  I  could  n't  bear  to 
think  of  May,  or  look  at  her,  poor  child !  I  hated 
my  home,  with  the  eternal  shadow  of  shame  upon  its 
threshold."  He  paused,  while  a  black  look  settled 
upon  his  open  countenance,  and  again  she  saw  what 
his  auger  could  be. 

"When  I  conquered  my  shuddering  distaste  and 


218  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

went  back  to  Wooton,  what  rewarded  me?  A  vision 
of  youth  and  innocence  that  seemed  to  dispense  a 
healing  influence.  It  was  like  passing  out  of  the  fogs 
of  London  into  clear  sunshine  on  green  fields.  You 
began  my  cure ;  May  has  helped  to  complete  it.  I  am 
another  man  since;  but  it  is  only  fair  you  should 
know  what  must  always  be  behind  me — know  that 
my  life  is  lived,  while  yours  is  but  happily  begun. 
In  your  bright  youth  there  can  be  no  cloud  likely  to 
linger." 

"  Yet  you  knew  your  worst  suffering  at  my  present 
time  of  life  !  "  she  replied  impatiently. 

"Yes;  it  is  the  time  of  keenest  and,  in  most  na- 
tures, most  ephemeral  feeling.  But,  I  repeat,  you  can 
have  no  cause  for  lasting  sorrow ;  your  happiness  is 
in  safe  hands.  Your  future  is  mapped  out  in  rose- 
color.  And  yet,  when  I  saw  you  crying  alone  in  San 
Salvador,  yesterday,  during  the  '  Rending  of  the  Veil,' 
I  was  smitten  with  the  contrast  of  this  young  face 
working  in  distress  and  the  one  I  watched  in  King's 
College  Chapel  a  year  ago,  first  amused,  then  touched, 
by  its  look  of  joyful  devotion." 

"  You  have  no  right  to  spy  on  me — to  notice  me ! " 
she  cried,  driven  to  bay.  "It  is  unkind  —  cruel." 
Her  words  were  choked  by  a  sob. 

She  turned  away  her  head,  and  tried  to  gather 
some  blossoms  in  the  grass.  In  their  brief  talk,  Gil- 
christ  seemed  to  have  receded  from  her  into  infinite 
distance.  Sitting  without  movement  beside  her,  he 
did  not  speak,  but  let  her  come  unaided  out  of  the 
access  of  feeling  he  had  created.  Was  he  blind  or 
deaf  or  indifferent  to  her  tumult?  Polly  did  not 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  219 

know.  Just  then  she  felt  too  much  to  attribute  to 
him  the  higher  motive  of  wishing  to  save  her  from 
herself — of  making  the  right  use  of  his  strength  to 
shield  her  weakness. 

"  But  I  must  tell  you  something  that  is  your  due," 
he  said,  when  at  last  she  sat  quietly  looking  across  at 
the  gray  ribs  of  the  ruins,  and  wondering  if  the  so/- 
rows they  had  seen,  had  been  like  unto  hers.  "  The 
night  I  went  back,  after  long  absence,  to  my  old 
home,  and  met  you  there,  a  wild  fancy  took  hold  of 
me ;  and,  though  common  sense  did  her  best  to  con- 
vince me  that  it  was  a  chimera  born  of  overtaxed 
feeling  under  unusual  circumstances,  I  felt  as  if  you 
had  been  sent  to  lift  the  shadow  from  Wooton  and 
from  its  owner's  lif e."\  For  a  brief  time  I  cherished  it 
with  the  sentiment  01  a  school-boy,  and  then  —  not 
too  soon  —  the  news  of  your  engagement  put  a  quick 
end  to  it.  Don't  answer  me  —  don't  comment ;  this  is 
a  confessional,  and  I  '11  have  soon  finished.  It 's  all 
over  long  ago  —  sunk  forty  fathoms  deep  in  memory. 
I  tell  you  of  it  only  that  in  future  days,  when  we  are 
far  apart,  you  may  think  kindly  of  some  acts  and  im- 
pulses of  mine  that  must,  at  my  age,  have  seemed  fol- 
lies in  your  sight.  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  better 
that  the  accident  of  travel  had  not  thrown  us  together 
again ;  but  I  think  I  have  not  proved  myself  unworthy 
of  the  generous  trust  your  family  has  shown  me,  and 
that  out  of  the  abundance  showered  upon  another's 
pathway,  Fortune — and  Woodbury — won't  begrudge 
me  this." 

Another  silence,  which  Paulina  could  not  have 
broken.  She  was  staring  at  a  great  black  bar  that 


220  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

had  fallen  between  her  and  the  sun ;  but  through  it 
came  a  single  ray  of  light.  She  thought  she  now 
understood  that  he  was  doing  this  thing  for  her. 
Therefore,  her  faith  in  him  being  justified,  she  could 
feel  glad  even  in  her  keen  pain. 

And  he,  divining  much  of  this,  took  from  it  com- 
fort. 

So  the  things  left  unspoken  between  them  brought 
them  more  truly  together  than  at  any  time  before. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  rising ;  "it  is  time  to  go." 

"  Yes.  It  is  the  very  end  of  our  meetings  by  the 
way;  for  to-morrow  morning  I  shall  be  gone;  and, 
unless  something  not  to  be  foreseen  by  me  occurs, 
this  time  it  will  be  long  before  I  again  cross  your 
path.  This  is  good-by,  Paulina.  Will  you  give  me 
your  hand  and  let  me  say  it  here  ?" 

They  looked  into  each  other's  eyes,  and  she  laid  her 
cold  hand  in  his. 

"  Ave  Maria ! "  sighed  Mauuela,  heaping  the  poppies 
in  her  lap. 


XIII 


AULINA  sat  alone  on  a  step  below 
the  Mirador,  two  weeks  later,  look- 
ing down  into  the  gardens  of  the 
Generalife. 

Those  who  find  it  not  altogether 
convenient  to  repair  to  Granada  to 
identify  the  surroundings  of  our  heroine  may  be  told 
that  the  Mirador  is  a  lookout  built  long  ago  by  her 
lord  for  the  delectation  of  a  Moorish  sultana,  at  her 
summer  palace  half-way  up  a  hill  facing  the  Al- 
hainbra. 

To  reach  it  Polly  and  her  comrades  had  crossed  a 
bridge  over  the  river  Darro,  famed  in  song  and  story; 
then  following  a  cypress  walk,  beside  which  a  stream 
played  a  thousand  pranks  in  the  way  of  waterfalls, 
they  were  admitted  into  the  villa  by  a  smiling  peas- 
ant woman  with  a  baby  at  her  knee  —  and  were 
mercifully  abandoned  to  their  fate. 

For,  once  behind  those  gates,  what  a  privilege  to 
roam  at  will !  The  young  people  had  hurried  through 
a  few  rooms  with  fine  carvings  and  arabesques  and 
dreary  portraits  of  dead  kings,  to  issue,  without  loss  of 
time,  into  the  evergreen  arcades  of  the  garden.  Here 
the  clever  old  Moors,  having  taken  the  little  river 

221 


222  AN  EREANT  WOOING 

Darro  bodily  from  its  bed,  and  carried  it  through 
aqueducts  of  indestructible  solidity  to  this  point,  had 
turned  it,  leaping  and  bubbling,  into  canals  and 
tanks  and  fountains,  to  make  the  barren  hillside 
blossom  like  the  rose.  Everywhere  the  ear  caught 
the  murmur  and  tinkle  of  its  waters,  sometimes  run- 
ning away  to  seek  the  valley,  sometimes  ascending, 
at  the  bidding  of  a  stop-cock  worked  by  the  gardener, 
through  perforations  in  the  walks,  in  slender  jets  of 
crystal  meeting  above  the  pedestrian's  head. 

Now  Polly  stopped  to  rest  under  the  cypress, 
standing  yet,  after  centuries  of  growth,  where  frail 
Queen  Zoraya  kept  her  tryst  with  the  Abencerrage 
that  led  to  a  direful  massacre.  Then  she  coursed 
along  a  tiled  walk  to  inhale  the  odors  of  a  bed  of 
mignonette,  or  to  peep  down  some  leafy  vista  at  a 
view.  And,  at  last,  up  the  steps  of  an  ascending 
garden,  between  box-borders,  and  pagodas  of  clipped 
yew,  and  beds  of  fragrant  flowers,  she  sped  with  light 
foot  to  the  highest  terrace,  and  ascended  to  the  sum- 
mit of  the  Mirador.  Thence  she  looked  over  at  the 
Alhambra,  like  a  red  fortress  on  a  red  crag;  at 
Granada,  with  its  pink  and  white  and  blue  houses 
embowered  in  verdure,  suggesting  to  the  Oriental 
poet  who  sang  of  it  "  a  silver  vase  of  hyacinths  and 
emeralds  n ;  at  the  wide  champaign  of  the  Vega,  scat- 
tered with  hamlets  and  churches ;  at  the  snow-capped 
Sierra  Nevada  crowning  all. 

A  fortnight  had  passed  since  her  visit  to  Italica. 
The  days  that  had  bid  fair  to  crush  her  with  their 
weight  had  progressed  evenly,  as  days  will  when  the 
irresistible  has  assumed  sway  of  our  actions.  On  this 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  223 

bright  morning  in  the  garden  Paulina  had  even  felt 
moments  of  health}7  happiness  in  living. 

But  when,  on  coming  out  of  the  tower,  she  was 
invited  by  her  comrades  to  climb  with  them  to  the 
summit  of  the  hill  above  the  Mirador,  she  had  de- 
clined. She  had  a  letter  to  write  —  a  letter  of  con- 
gratulation to  her  cousin  Miss  Low,  the  announce- 
ment of  whose  engagement  to  marry  had  come  out  to 
them  by  the  last  mail.  And  Roger  and  May,  while 
regretting  Polly's  determination,  had  left  her  with- 
out showing  themselves  altogether  disconsolate.  Tak- 
ing out  a  pad  of  paper,  and  a  fountain-pen  of  de- 
praved character,  the  disappointing  companion  of 
her  foreign  rambles,  Polly,  after  much  shaking  and 
coaxing,  induced  it  to  inscribe  what  here  follows : 

I  need  not  tell  you,  my  dearest  Fanny,  how  truly  we  rejoice 
and  sympathize  in  your  new-found  happiness. 

"That  much  is  true,"  she  said,  upon  re-reading  it; 
"I  am  glad  she  is  satisfied,  and  that  she  thinks  '  Jim- 
mie'  Winslow  is  nice  enough  to  marry.  For  my 
part,  rather  than  take  such  a  solemn,  weak-kneed 
member  of  '  the  smart  set '  in  New  York,  I  'd  apply 
to  be  assistant  caretaker  of  the  Generalife,  and 
spend  the  rest  of  my  days  here." 

Mama  wishes  me  to  say,  with  hei%  love,  that  she  is  sure  the 
marriage  is,  in  every  way,  one  your  father  and  mother  must 
think  most  suitable.  Roger  is  sending  a  line  by  this  post.  And 
we  want  you  frankly  to  say  whether  we  shall  get  your  presents 
in  Paris,  or  London,  or  in  New  York  on  our  return.  We  all 
know  the  best  things  find  their  way  to  our  dealers,  though 
there  's  a  wider  choice  abroad.  We  are  much  surprised  to  hear 
that  Amaranth  Clyde  has  concluded  to  take  old  Nil  Admirari 


224  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

Johnson,  as  we  girls  used  to  call  him.  What  lias  become  of  all 
her  lords?  And  so  Mabel  Kirby  has  gone  home  to  her  people 
in  New  York,  carrying  her  two  little  girls,  and  the  husband  has 
pranced  off,  nobody  knows  where ! 

"  This  is  very  cold-blooded,"  she  said,  dropping  the 
pad,  and  looking  about  her.  "  Why  is  it  such  up-hill 
work  to  sympathize  with  things  at  home  to-day?" 
Then,  resuming: 

I  am  sitting  now  in  the  cool  shadow  of  a  Moorish  Mirador,  on 
a  terrace  edged  by  a  white  balustrade,  where  they  keep  pots  of 
gillyflowers  and  geraniums.  Outside  —  my  feet  are  in  it  —  is 
a  blaze  of  sunshine.  I  never  saw  so  many  white  butterflies. 
They  feast  in  a  bed  of  red  and  yellow  velvet  wallflowers,  and 
flit  up  here  to  digest  their  reckless  meal,  and  then,  finding  this 
too  cool,  flit  out  again.  Not  being  a  butterfly,  it  is  warm 
enough  for  me.  I  wish  I  were  a  butterfly,  that  I  might  for- 
get everything  except  the  wallflowers  in  the  garden  of  the 
Generalif  e ! 

"  It  is  well  the  fountain-pen  struck  at  that  point, 
and  refused  to  do  another  stroke,"  she  said,  throwing 
it  down.  "  I  am  the  most  selfish  creature  alive.  I 
can't  be  interested  in  Fanny  or  in  anything  but  my 
own  affairs.  But  come !  Who  dares  be  wretched  in 
face  of  such  a  prospect  on  such  a  day  ?  I  must  be 
brave,  and  possess  my  soul  in  patience.  Why  could 
n't  I  have  had  all  this  when  my  heart  was  as  light  as 
that  bit  of  down  floating  in  the  air  ?  There  is  abso- 
lutely no  use  trying  to  write  to  Fanny.  I  will  do  it 
when  I  return  to  the  hotel  —  respectably,  on  a  table 
with  a  hotel  inkstand  and  a  sheet  of  paper  headed  by 
a  picture  of  the  hotel.  By  that  time  I  may  have 
thought  of  something  decent  to  say  about  Jimmie 


AN  EEBANT  WOOING  225 

Winslow.  There  is  no  harm  in  my  future  cousin ; 
but  when  he  asked  me  the  same  question,  last  year, 
he  has  recently  asked  Fauny,  I  knew  it  was  grand- 
papa's granddaughter  he  wanted,  not  Polly  Standish. 
I  had  just  come  back  from  England,  and  I  remember 
comparing  him  with  —  Piers !  (No  one  can  hear  me 
think  Piers !)  I  love  the  name ;  it  smacks  of  honest 
English  soil.  But  what  have  I  to  do  with  English 
soil  —  I,  who  a  year  ago  said  everything  foolish  and 
spiteful  against  it  and  its  people?  No  matter!  In 
the  garden  of  the  Geueralife  one  can  afford  to  be  in- 
consistent. Hum!  Put  Jimmie  Winslow  —  that  im- 
portant little  man  who  leads  cotillions  at  Sherry's, 
and  believes  so  consumedly  in  New  York  fashion  — 
beside  Piers  Gilchrist,  who  looks  like  an  old  rover  of 
the  Scandinavian  seas  re-incarnate,  who  is  strong  in 
mind  and  body,  whose  brain  is  free  of  cobwebs  and 
pretense,  who  thinks  nothing  of  his  family's  past,  of 
his  right  place  in  society,  who  is  simple  and  kind, 
who  suits  me  in  every  fiber  of  my  being !  Ah,  me  — 
Roger ! "  she  cried,  as  two  people  came  through  the 
door  of  the  Mirador  opening  on  the  hillside  behind 
her,  "  why  did  you  make  me  jump  ?  And  what  is  the 
matter  with  May  ? " 

"  So  tiresome  ! "  said  May,  showing  an  object  in  her 
hand.  "The  heel  of  my  shoe  came  off,  and  I  can't 
walk  without  it.  Mr.  Woodbury  is  good  enough  to 
go  to  our  house,  and  ask  old  Josefa  for  another  shoe. 
I  will  stop  with  you,  with  your  leave." 

For  the  first  time  Polly  thought  she  saw  in  May's 
ingenuous  eyes  a  desire  to  avoid  hers.  She  made  place 
for  her,  however,  and  when  Roger,  doffing  his  hat, 

15 


226  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

and  promising  to  be  quick  in  returning,  ran  off  down 
the  steps,  reappearing  in  their  sight  from  time  to 
time  through  the  bowery  groves  below,  the  girls 
talked  of  La  Silla  del  Moro,  of  the  climb  thither,  the 
view,  the  weather,  and  the  provokingness  of  shoes. 

But  as  May  talked,  her  eyes,  no  longer  avoiding 
Polly's,  became  deep  with  wistfulness.  The  child's 
heart  was  weighed  down  under  the  thought  that  in  a 
few  days,  at  most,  the  friends  who  had  created  for 
her  a  new  world  of  feeling  and  enjoyment  were  to 
pass  out  of  her  life  forever.  It  was  not  in  the  na- 
ture of  things  to  be  supposed  they  would  meet  often 
again,  when  an  ocean  should  once  divide  them.  That 
morning  May  had  heard  Mrs.  Standish  speak  to  Lady 
Edmund  about  Polly's  and  Roger's  marriage  as  a  thing 
of  no  distant  date,  and  the  announcement  had  made 
her  turn  cold.  The  recent  attitude  of  the  cousins  to 
each  other,  so  matter-of-fact,  so  unemotional,  had  in- 
deed struck  her  as  strange;  but  here,  all  the  same, 
the  marriage  was  going  on ! 

A  week  later,  and  May  would  be  gone  into  her  shell 
again.  There  would  be  no  merry  Polly  to  entertain 
her  with  bright  sayings;  no  kind  Mrs.  Standish  to 
look  out  for  her  health  and  make  suggestions  about 
her  toilet ;  no  old  Mr.  Woodbury  to  bestow  on  her  his 
quaint  compliments  (which,  by  the  way,  had  been 
fewer  of  late,  she  knew  not  why);  no  —  Roger! 
Roger,  the  first  man  she  had  ever  known  well  who 
was  not  a  father,  a  music-teacher,  or  a  lecturer  in 
ladies'  schools;  Roger,  whom  she  had  liked  in  Lon- 
don, liked  better  at  Wooton  Magna,  welcomed  joyfully 
in  Morocco. 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  227 

Now,  after  their  intimate  companionship  in  knock- 
ing about  Andalusian  cities  in  the  time  of  the  night- 
ingale and  rose,  May  had  no  words  for  the  strange 
new  feeling  that  possessed  her  at  thought  of  parting 
with  him. 

It  was  right  that  Polly  should  carry  off  the  prize — 
Polly,  the  brilliant  little  being  who  ruled  every  one 
about  her,  whom  every  one  admired,  indulged ;  who 
had  never  known  what  it  was  to  give  up,  or  not 
to  have,  what  she  wanted ;  Polly,  the  little  American 
princess,  wrapped  in  cottonwool,  cradled  in  rose- 
leaves,  a  great  heiress, —  so  Lady  Edmund  said, —  who 
had  had  lovers  and  offers  in  plenty,  and  would  hear 
of  none  of  them. 

Also,  that  morning,  when  Lady  Edmund  had 
seemed  to  wish  to  make  May  understand  the  inevita- 
bleuess  of  Polly's  and  Roger's  match,  she  had  told 
her  how  long  it  had  been  arranged,  how  it  was  to 
keep  intact  a  splendid  fortune,  how  really  fond  of 
each  other  the  young  people  were ;  and  had  ended  by 
saying  the  wedding  would  take  place  at  Mr.  Wood- 
bury's  country-house  in  Massachusetts  in  September. 

And  there  was  something  else  paining  May;  while 
Polly  made  her  a  place  at  her  side,  and  talked  to  her 
so  pleasantly,  the  younger  girl  was  conscious  of  a 
certain  disloyalty  of  recent  action. 

When  she  and  Roger  had  started  to  leave  the 
Moor's  Chair,  her  foot  had  struck  upon  a  stone, 
and,  the  heel  of  her  shoe  forsaking  it,  she  had  lost 
her  balance,  and  had  fallen  into  Roger's  arms.  They 
were  alone,  with  no  one  to  behold  them  but  a  passing 
bird,  and  a  shepherd  on  a  far-away  slope.  As  Roger 


228  AN   ERRANT   WOOING 

restored  her  to  her  balance,  a  lock  of  May's  hair  of 
dazzling  gold  had  been  blown  by  the  summer  breeze 
across  the  young  man's  lips. 

What  occurred  then  is  not  known  to  the  chronicler. 
It  will  never  be  told  by  May  or  Roger.  As  the  little 
bird  lighting  on  an  orange-bough  above  them  trilled 
and  twittered  madly  during  the  girls'  talk,  it  may  be 
rightly  conjectured  to  have  been  telling  tales.  But 
it  twittered  in  Spanish,  and  May  was  safe. 

Something,  however,  had  happened  that,  as  their 
colloquy  progressed,  made  May  feel  more  and  more 
grieved  and  guilty. 

"Yes,  it  is  sad,"  Paulina  said,  to  think  of  giving 
up  this,  and  going  back  to  live  the  life  of  every  day ; 
and  my  life  will  be  the  kind  that  suits  me  least — one 
of  over-conventionality.  But  I  suppose  Spain  is  not 
always  green  in  the  valleys." 

"  No ;  in  summer,  Piers  says,  we  must  flee  to  the 
Basque  hills  for  refuge.  If  I  can  only  persuade  him 
not  to  banish  me  to  England ! " 

"  That  were  a  pleasant  exile,"  said  Paulina,  dreamily. 

"My  England  is  not  pleasant.  I  was  brought  up 
among  people  who — don't  let  me  think  of  them  !  My 
one  dream  of  sentiment  was  to  go  to  Wooton  Magna, 
and  see  my  birthplace,  and  my  mother's  picture.  My 
mother  died  when  I  was  very  young,  I  believe.  I 
have  never  had  any  one  speak  of  her  to  me.  I  think 
she  must  have  quarreled  with  my  great-aunt.  When 
I  saw  her  portrait,  it  was  as  if  some  castle  of  soap- 
bubbles  I  had  been  making  all  those  years  had  burst. 
I  can't  tell  you  why,  but  she  did  not  seem  to  want  me. 
That  was  my  only  feeling — she  did  not  want  me." 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  229 

"It  was  a  very  distressing  one,"  said  Paulina, 
softly.  "  From  my  babyhood  I  have  always  loved  to 
think  my  mother's  arms  were  open  to  me.  I  have 
continued  to  take  all  my  troubles,  little  and  big,  to 
her.  Her  tenderness  never  fails.  Indeed,  I  believe  I 
have  never  kept  anything  from  her  —  but  one  thing," 
she  added,  stopping  short. 

"I  envy  you.  There  are  so  many  things  I  can't 
speak  of  to  Piers.  He  is  dear  and  kind,  but  I  can't  tell 
him  all.  And  it  is  the  greatest  relief  to  speak,  is  it 
not,  when  one  is  sure  of  sympathy  ? " 

"  I  think  so ;  but  then  I  am  a  spoiled  child.  A  kiss, 
a  warm  pressure  of  the  hand,  will  to  this  day  make 
me  smile  when  I  am  crying." 

"Ah!  there  is  no  one  for  me  to  take  my  trouble 
to  —  no  one!  "cried  May,  bursting  into  tears. 

"May,  tell  me,"  said  Paulina,  her  face  grave,  her 
brows  meeting. 

"  I  have  not  been  true  to  you  !  I  have  let  some  one 
who  belongs  to  you  see  that  I — care  for  him.  There, 
I  have  told  you !  I  could  not  endure  to  keep  it." 

"  You  do  care  for  him,  my  poor  child  ? "  said  Polly, 
her  frown  vanished,  her  voice  ineffably  tender.  "  May, 
let  me  put  my  arm  around  you.  Lean  your  head  on 
my  shoulder.  Ah,  what  a  great  child  I  have  to  pet 
and  pardon !  That  is  what  mama  always  does  to  me 
when  I  'in  feeling  at  my  worst.  She  says  nothing, 
but  just  strokes  me ;  and  soon  a  little  warmth  steals 
into  my  heart,  and  melts  it,  and  then  all  I  want  is  to 
rest  there  and  be  loved — as  I  love  you,  May  I" 

There  were  no  more  words  upon  the  subject  upper- 
most in  both  hearts.  They  sat  side  by  side,  watching 


230  AN  EREANT   WOOING 

the  cloud-prints  on  the  sierra;  a  lizard  ran  out  on 
the  paved  walk  to  play ;  a  harmless  snake  glided  by 
them,  and  disappeared  in  a  bed  of  pansies.  The 
world  seemed  glad  and  brilliant  to  both  the  girls 
once  more,  and  from  May  a  great  weight  was  lifted. 
When  Roger  returned,  the  young  man,  looking 
from  one  to  the  other,  felt  a  tremendous  twinge  of 
conscience ;  but,  unlike  May,  it  did  not  occur  to  him 
to  desire  to  confide  his  emotion  to  any  one  — least  of 
all  to  Polly. 

"  GRANDPAPA,"  said  Paulina,  linking  her  arm  in 
Mr.  Woodbury's  as  they  went  out  that  same  day  from 
luncheon,  "  I  want  you  to  come  with  me  now  for  a 
little  stroll  in  the  Alhambra  gardens." 

"  Eh  I  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Woodbury,  looking  to  see  if 
they  might  elude  the  courier. 

Gillson  was  on  hand,  in  unusual  splendor,  smoking 
in  the  vestibule,  in  company  \vith  a  guide  like  a  ban- 
dit in  appearance,  in  reality  a  sentimentalist  who, 
while  quoting  Theophile  Gautier  within  the  precincts 
of  the  palace,  did  not  disdain,  under  a  stress  of  new 
arrivals  at  the  hotel,  to  aid  the  domestic  staff  by 
handing  potatoes  at  table  d'hote. 

"  Gillson,"  said  Mr.  Woodbury,  "  you  have  nothing 
laid  out  for  me  just  now,  have  you  ? " 

"There  his  the  Cartuja,  sir,  with  hits  world-re- 
nowned marbles,  hits  haltars  hinlaid  with  mother  o' 
pearl  and  daughter  o'  shell,"  admitted  the  grand 
duke,  condescendingly. 

"Does  he  mean  tortoise-shell?"  whispered  Polly. 
u  Now,  grandpapa,  stand  to  your  guns,  and  say  you 
won't  go  there  to-day ;  and  I  '11  back  you  up." 


AN  EREANT  WOOING  231 

"  I  sha'n't  want  you  this  little  while,  Gillson,"  said 
his  employer,  temporizing. 

"  Just  as  you  like,  sir.  Then  I  shall  'ave  the  plea- 
sure of  hescorting  Miss  Mills  to  see  some  of  the 
points  of  hinterest  she  'as  neglected,"  said  the  su- 
perb Gillson,  bowing  himself  off. 

"  And  who  is  Miss  Mills,  Polly  ?  " 

"  Oh,  grandpapa,  it  is  Justina.  Do  you  know,  Wil- 
cox,  who  was  quite  indifferent  to  her  at  home,  has 
become  very  jealous  of  Gillson's  attentions.  I  don't 
doubt  he  will  end  by  marrying  her." 

"Who?  Wilcox?  Ridiculous!  Why,  the  crea- 
ture 's  twice  his  age ! " 

"  I  know,"  said  Polly,  dropping  her  eyes ;  "  but  it 
is  all  Gillson's  fault.  And  every  time  he  thinks  he 
is  detected  in  being  too  attentive  to  her  maid,  he  calls 
mama  '  my  lady.'  He  fancies  it  flatters  her." 

"  I  don't  know  but  Gillson  is  right,"  said  the  old 
gentleman,  chuckling.  "  These  titles,  like  black- 
berries,—  and  worth  about  as  much,  humph !  —  are 
turning  our  republican  heads." 

"You  know  you  like  Lord  Edmund.  How  good 
he  is  to  Lucy,  and  how  happy  she  is !  And  you  once 
seemed  to  like  Sir  Piers  Gilchrist." 

"They  are  accidents.  I  do  like  Gilchrist,  con- 
foundedly well,  too ;  and  I  never  was  so  put  out  in 
my  life  as  when  he  was  called  to  Gib  by  his  banker 
just  while  we  are  here.  No  signs  of  his  coming  back, 
Polly,  eh?" 

"  None  that  I  know  of,  grandpapa.  Am  I  walking 
too  fast  for  you  up  the  hill?  Don't  you  love  this 
elm-wood  and  its  everlasting  trickling  of  waters? 
See ;  there,  under  the  Gate  of  Judgment,  is  the  vain 


232  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

old  gipsy  posing  as  usual,  and  offering  his  photo- 
graphs for  sale.  How  I  am  growing  to  love  it  all ! 
How  can  I  ever  leave  it ! " 

"  Yet  we  must  get  off  on  Monday.  We  've  a  good 
deal  of  Spain  to  do  yet ;  and  we  Ve  promised  to  stop 
at  Biarritz  with  Lucy  to  see  the  baby." 

"  On  Monday  ? "  said  Paulina,  growing  pale. 

Her  animation  fled.  Not  until  they  were  inside 
the  little  garden  called  Adarves,  built  on  the  rocky 
bastion  under  the  Vela  tower,  and  she  had  found 
for  the  old  man  a  comfortable  bench,  did  she  again 
speak. 

"  That  is  three  days,  grandpapa." 

"  What  is  three  days,  child  ?  Egad,  Polly,  this  is 
fine,  this  view.  It  takes  one's  breath  away.  I  don't 
know  but  I  'd  be  satisfied  to  camp  out  here  for  the 
rest  of  my  life." 

"  Then  stay,  dear,  stay.  We  are  all  so  well ;  it  's 
cool  and  enchanting ;  we  're  just  beginning  to  know 
the  Alhambra.  Don't  take  us  away  yet." 

"  It  will  be  the  same  everywhere  we  go  in  Spain, 
little  girl.  No,  I  've  decided;  and  you  very  well 
know  the  one  thing  I  don't  do  is  to  change  my 
mind." 

Another  silence.  The  tiny  garden  that  Fortuny 
put  into  the  background  of  a  famous  picture  was 
overflowing  with  flowers  and  haunted  with  booming 
bees.  Upon  the  ivy-covered  wall  of  the  tower  behind 
it  were  growing  Bengal  roses  of  deep  velvety  red, 
and  under  them  gleamed  the  gold  of  oranges  and 
the  blue  stars  of  celestine.  The  fine,  strong  coun- 
tenance of  the  old  man,  as  he  sat  bareheaded  to  let 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  233 

the  breeze  play  with  his  streaming  silver  hair,  might 
have  daunted  another  than  Polly.  But  after  a  brief 
time  of  thought  she  had  resolved  to  play  for  high 
stakes  —  to  lose,  or  —  win. 

"  Grandpapa,"  she  said,  while  putting  a  flower  in 
his  coat,  "you  have  often  told  mama,  and  she  has 
told  me,  nothing  would  give  you  greater  pleasure 
than  to  see  Roger  and  me  married." 

"Yes,  child;  yes,  dear,"  answered  he  aloud,  shifting 
uncomfortably.  "Devil  take  that  fellow!  Has  he 
let  her  know  he  's  been  after  another  girl,  and  is 
that  the  reason  she  's  found  out  she  wants  him 
back?"  was  what  the  inner  man  was  saying. 

"I  would  like  to  make  you  happy.  I  want  to 
make  every  one  about  me  happy.  And,  if  Roger  and 
you  want  it  so  very,  very  much,  I  won't  any  longer 
ask  to  have  it  put  off." 

"Life  is  n't  certain,  my  dear.  I  found  that  out 
this  winter,  when  I  made  such  a  narrow  shave  of  it. 
I  should  rejoice  to  see  your  wedding,  as  you  know, 
and  you  are  a  darling  child  to  offer  it." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  offer  it,"  said  Polly,  her  heart  beating, 
her  temples  throbbing,  a  light  mist  seeming  to  come 
before  her  eyes.  "  I  will  marry  Roger  to-morrow,  if 
he  wants  me." 

"  That  would  be  the  best  plan,  by  George !  That 
would  rid  us  of  all  —  hem! — entanglements,"  cried 
the  old  man,  exultingly.  "  Not  to-morrow,  of  course ; 
but  soon.  There  's  no  one  absent  but  Toodles,  dear 
lad,  and  your  aunt  and  cousins.  And  let  me  tell 
you,  Paulina,  since  I  have  heard  that  Sophy  Low 
means  deliberately  to  allow  her  daughter  to  marry 


234  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

such  a  popinjay  as  that  Winslow,  I  'm  not,  so  to 
speak,  over-anxious  to  see  any  of  the  lot.  Why,  I 
could  n't  keep  a  civil  tongue  in  my  head  if  I  met 
Winslow.  A  dancing,  dawdling  creature,  neither 
American  nor  English,  an  imitation  of  he  knows 
not  what ;  Iwith  no  vices,  simply  because  he  has  n't 
,  strength  fo*  'em  !  " 

"Don't  talk  about  Jimmie  Winslow  now,  grand- 
papa. Talk  about  Roger  and  me." 

"  I  '11  do  more ;  I  '11  have  Eoger  in  my  room  to- 
night, and  settle  the  whole  thing.  But  when  it  's 
settled,  Miss  Weathercock,  no  changing  back  again, 
mind  that." 

"  No,  grandpapa,"  said  Polly,  submissively.  Then, 
frightened  at  her  own  temerity,  she  awaited  its  result. 


XIV 


Y  darling,  Wilcox  has  just  come 
from  your  grandpapa  to  say  that 
Roger  is  with  him,  and  that  he 
wishes  to  see  you  at  once.  I 
asked  Wilcox  if  grandpapa  said 
anything  about  me,  but  he  an- 
swered no  —  it  was  Miss  Staudish.  And,  my  dear,  all 
your  hair  is  tumbling  down,  and  I  can't  imagine  what 
grandpapa  can  have  to  say  at  this  late  hour — 11:30, 
and  time  you  were  in  bed.  But  there!  there!  run 
along,  and  come  back  as  quickly  as  you  can,  and  tell 
me  all  about  it." 

Paulina  walked  down  the  corridor  with  a  brave 
front,  like  poor  Marie  Antoinette  on  her  way  to  exe- 
cution. Now  was  the  failure,  or  success  of  her  des- 
perate venture  to  be  proved.  If  Roger  should  be  so 
blind,  so  base,  as  to  take  her  up,  what  then  ? 

She  tapped  at  the  door,  and,  entering,  found  the 
old  gentleman  on  one  side  of  the  round  table  in  his 
sitting-room,  Roger  on  the  other,  a  candelabrum  with 
six  candles  burning  between  them,  the  room  other- 
wise in  darkness,  but  for  a  handful  of  fire  on  the 
hearth,  made  desirable  by  the  cool  night  air  of  the 
mountains. 

235 


236  AN  EEEANT   WOOING 

For  the  first  time  Polly  could  not  look  a  crisis  in 
the  face.  She  sank  into  the  chair  placed  for  her  by 
Roger,  and,  covering  her  eyes  with  her  hands,  bent 
her  head  down  upon  the  table. 

For  a  moment  there  was  no  sound  but  that  one 
never  failing  in  Granada  —  the  murmur  of  a  stream- 
let rushing  down  the  hill.  Then  a  nightingale  in  the 
courtyard  surpassed  himself  in  one  long  trill  of  be- 
seeching to  the  rose. 

"What  shall  I  say  to  you,  my  child?  How  shall 
I  tell  you  what  he  has  answered  me?"  she  heard  in 
her  grandfather's  voice.  Nay ;  was  this  indeed  her 
grandfather's  voice,  so  low,  so  fraught  with  compas- 
sionate tenderness  ? 

Polly  took  courage  to  lift  her  head.  She  saw  her 
grandfather's  face,  pearly  white  in  the  dusk  of  the 
room,  his  silver  hair  floating  about  it,  all  spirit  gone 
out  of  it,  sorrowful,  broken  —  the  face  of  an  old,  old 
man. 

Then  she  looked  at  Roger.  She  had  never  thought 
him  so  handsome.  He  held  his  head  aloft ;  his  eyes 
shone  with  a  strange,  new  expression,  half  pride,  half 
timidity. 

"Roger!  Then  you  refuse  me?"  cried  Polly,  a 
tremble  of  rapture  in  her  tones. 

"I  have  long  known  that  you  do  not  love  me, 
dear,"  he  said  tranquilly. 

"Paulina,  is  this  true?"  asked  her  grandfather, 
angrily. 

"  Grandpapa,  don't  look  at  me  —  don't  speak  to  me 
—  like  that.  It  is  not  my  fault.  It  is  not  his  fault. 
We  have  fought  for  two  long  years,  and  failed.  To 


AN  ERRANT   WOOING  237 

please  you,  we  would  have  done  anything  but  live  a 
lie.  Your  grandchildren  could  never  live  a  lie ! " 

"  Then  you  made  me  do  this  thing — " 

"  To  prove  to  you,  grandfather,  to  convince  you,  as 
no  words  could  convince  you,  that  we  shall  be  hap- 
pier apart.  Do  what  you  like  with  the  money;  give 
it  every  bit  to  Roger." 

"  You  know  that  is  impossible,  sir,"  interposed  the 
young  man. 

"  That  is  a  matter,  young  people,  I  have,  up  to  the 
present,  thank  God  !  been  able  to  manage  for  myself," 
dryly  remarked  Mr.  Woodbury.  "  Perhaps  you  will 
let  me  ask  how  long  this  has  been  going  on  t " 

"  Polly  has  always  alarmed  me,  sir.  I  felt  uncer- 
tain of  her  since  the  first.  Not  of  her  keeping  faith, 
mind  you,  but  of  — " 

"  Don't  ask  Roger ;  ask  me,"  put  in  Paulina.  "  He 
has  really  been  a  sufferer  for  years.  He  deserves  a 
pillar  and  a  niche.  You  ought  to  be  doubly  indul- 
gent to  him,  grandpapa,  to  make  up  for  all  he  has 
borne  for  you." 

"  So  I  am  the  bugbear  to  both  of  you,  eh  ? " 

"  You  are  not  in  earnest ;  you  know  we  love  you 
dearly,"  cried  the  girl,  running  to  throw  two  warm 
arms  around  his  neck.  "  Roger,  come  and  take  one 
hand,  while  I  take  the  other.  Let  us  swear  that  there 
never  was  such  a  duck  of  an  old  grandfather,  whose 
bark  is  worse  than  his  bite  —  who  has  spent  his  life 
doing  noble  and  generous  things  —  whom  we  are 
proud  of,  and  will  be  till  we  die  ! " 

"  Paulina,  what  is  there  you  and  Lucy  Blount  do 
not  commit  in  the  way  of  offense  against  the  English 


238  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

speech !  Did  y,ou  ever  hear,  pray,  of  a  duck  that 
barked!  There,  go  to  bed,  and  let  Roger  stay  and 
settle  me  down,  while  I  take  a  night-cap  of  hot  Scotch." 

"  One  minute  !  Roger,  come  with  me  into  the  cor- 
ridor," said  Paulina,  trying  to  subdue  the  dancing  of 
her  heart.  "Here,  my  dear  boy,  is  your  ring.  I  want 
you  to  promise  me  that  you  will  give  it  to  some  one 
to  whom  it  will  mean  a  thousand  times  more  than  it 
ever  did  to  me  —  or  than  I  tried  to  fancy  it  did.  We 
made  a  great,  great  mistake ;  it  came  near  being  a  ter- 
rible one  —  and  we  are  saved !  Don't  you  make  an- 
other mistake,  and  through  false  shame  let  go  what  I 
know  you  are  longing  to  grasp." 

"  I  do  long  for  it,  Polly.  I  never  knew  how  much 
till  now,"  he  said  simply.  "  And  I  meant  to  speak  to 
you  and  to  my  grandfather  at  once." 

"  To-morrow ! "  said  Polly,  thrusting  the  ring  upon 
him. 

"THERE!  it  is  settled.  I  Ve  won!  I  am  free; 
Roger  is  happy;  grandpapa  is  placated,  I  can  see; 
and  mama  will  think  as  he  does.  But  what  will  be- 
come of  poor  me?  If  I  were  not  afraid  of  running 
upon  her  Ted,  I  'd  go  to  Lucy  this  minute,  while  she 
is  having  her  hair  brushed,  and  send  away  the  maid, 
and  tell  her  the  whole  thing.  But  no  —  no  one  before 
mama ! "  and  opening  her  mother's  door,  she  carried 
her  surprise  in  with  her. 

"  I  HAVE  turned  it  over  in  my  mind  in  every  way," 
said  Lady  Edmund  Blount  to  her  husband,  as  they 


AN  EERANT  WOOING  239 

walked  together  up  and  down  the  terrace  before  Gil- 
christ's  villa,  waiting  for  their  young  charge  to  come 
out  to  them.  For,  after  her  talk  with  Roger,  May 
had  decided  to  return  to  the  companionship  of  old 
Josefa,  and  await  her  father's  return. 

It  was  the  day  preceding  that  upon  which  Mr. 
Woodbury  still  held  to  his  determination  to  leave 
Granada.  Lucy,  to  whom  had  been  referred  the 
question  of  May  and  Roger,  had  decided  that  in  the 
absence  of  Sir  Piers  the  intending  suitor  had  better 
abandon  the  casket  that  contained  his  gem  —  less 
poetically  speaking,  that  Roger  should  go  to  Gib- 
raltar, look  up  Sir  Piers,  tell  him  the  whole  story,  and 
ask  for  his  daughter's  hand. 

But  to  Lucy  the  rub  was  that  by  that  time  the 
others  would  be  far  on  their  way  out  of  Spain.  Re- 
membering Gilchrist's  confidences  to  her  at  Seville, 
she  longed  with  all  womanly  desire  to  straighten  out 
his  complication,  too.  She  did  not  dare  to  sound 
Paulina,  who  had  requested  to  be  left  altogether  out 
of  discussions  regarding  May  and  Roger.  Nor  could 
she  put  it  into  the  already  overtaxed  brain  of  Mrs. 
Standish  —  who,  believing  herself  heart-broken,  was 
still  able  to  talk  by  the  hour  with  Lucy  over  Roger's 
new  affair  —  that  her  daughter  Polly  was  in  love 
with  Roger's  prospective  father-in-law. 

"They  ought  to  meet;  they  ought  to  have  a 
chance,"  had  ruminated  Lucy.  "Everybody  in  this 
world  ought  to  have  a  chance.  And  the  question  is 
whether  Polly  will  eat  me  up  if  I  communicate  with 
Gilchrist.  Polly  can  be  rather  an  awful  little  person, 


240  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

especially  if  she  thinks  her  maidenly  dignity  is  in- 
volved. I  know.  I  '11  ask  Ted  if  I  may  —  no !  I  '11 
do  it,  and  then  tell  Ted  ! " 

May,  during  these  perturbing  meditations  of  her 
chaperon,  had  been  of  little  help.  With  her  foot  on 
the  first  round  of  the  golden  ladder  to  a  lover's  para- 
dise, she  had  nothing  to  wish.  Her  one  stipulation, 
that  she  should  leave  the  hotel  and  return  to  the 
shelter  of  her  own  modest  home,  touched  Lucy  into 
prompt  acquiescence  with  the  scheme.  At  the  door 
of  his  lady's  bower  Roger  had  not  yet  ventured  to 
present  himself. 

"  It  grieves  me  to  leave  May  here  to-morrow,  Ted," 
Lucy  now  said  to  her  liege,  as  she  hung  on  his  arm, 
and  poured  variations  of  one  theme  into  his  ear. 
"Just  think,  when  we  are  crawling  away  in  one 
of  those  slow  trains  from  Bobadilla,  going  north,  and 
Roger  is  in  another  train,  going  south,  what  her 
feelings  will  be,  left  alone,  wondering  whether  her 
father  will  say  yea  or  nay." 

"You  women  are  queer  creatures,"  Blount  re- 
marked, knocking  the  ashes  from  his  cigar  into 
the  heart  of  a  rose.  "Just  now  May  Gilchrist  is 
the  center  of  interest.  Until  her  love-affair  is  set- 
tled, I  don't  believe  any  of  you  will  get  a  good  night's 
rest.  It  is  all  May  —  May.  Ny  little  friend  Paulina 
is  of  secondary  importance.  No  one  talks  of  her, 
thinks  of  her,  plans  for  her  coming  out  all  right." 

"Ted,  what  can  one  do?"  cried  Lucy,  guiltily  aware 
of  something  already  done.  "Who  knows  whether 
Gilchrist  cares  for  Polly  ?  Do  you  ? " 

"  There  is  no  doubt  of  it  in  my  mind.    He  is  as  far 


AN  EKRANT  WOOING  2-il 

gone  as  any  fellow  I  ever  saw,  and  the  marriage 
would  be  a  deuced  good  one  for  him.  It 's  a  shame 
to  let  the  Wootou  Magna  property  run  down  as  it 
is  doing.  A  good  round  sum  out  of  old  Woodbury's 
pocket  would  fetch  up  its  value  to  equal  any  in 
the  county." 

"  You  sordid  boy !  As  if  it  were  only  a  question  of 
money ! " 

"  No,  I  don't  say  that ;  but  money  makes  love  last 
longer  and  its  flame  burn  brighter,  in  my  opinion. 
Gilchrist  ought  to  be  a  somebody,  not  a  nomad ;  and 
he  shall  be,  if  I  can  help  him." 

"Why,  Ted,  you  look  as  if  you  mean  something. 
You  have  been  meddling.  What  can  you  have  done  ? " 

"Wired  Gilchrist  last  night  to  meet  me  here  on 
important  business  before  I  leave  to-morrow."  I 

"Ted,  you  did  n't?  Yes,  you  did!  You  are  the/ 
cleverest,  sweetest  old  thing  I  ever  saw !  If  baby 
grows  up  like  you,  what  a  blessing  he  will  be  to  some 
woman  one  of  these  days !  Darling  baby !  When  I 
am  happy  I  always  want  to  see  him.  Let  us  fly 
to-morrow  as  fast  as  Spanish  steam  can  carry  us  to 
Biarritz.  Now  I  am  going  to  tell  you  a  secret.  ••  I 
wired  too." 

"You!    To  Gilchrist  ?» 

"  Yes ;  I  am  his  confidante,  you  must  know.  But 
it  was  a  most  diplomatic  message,  committing  nobody. 
Polly  could  n't  find  anything  to  object  to  in  it.  I 
think  he  will  believe  you  have  suddenly  gone  mad,  or 
that  we  can't  afford  to  pay  our  hotel  bill.  But  he 
must  come,  must  he  not  ?  Oh,  Ted,  I  see  it  all !  Unless 
Gilchrist  and  Polly  are  too  idiotic  for  anything,  they 

16 


242  AN  EEEANT  WOOING 

will  soon  be  married.  And  old  Mr.  Woodbury  will 
give  Polly  lots  of  money.  But  he  will  insist  on  their 
living  in  England  on  their  own  property  part  of  the 
time.  And  so  we  '11  lose  "Wooton  Magna;  for  of 
course  we  would  n't  be  so  mean  as  to  hold  on  to  the 
lease." 

"  Easy  methods  of  doing  business,  yours,"  said  her 
husband,  much  amused. 

"  Listen !  But  we  must  go  back  to  Wooton  Magna 
for  May's  wedding.  They  can  have  the  house  for  the 
affair,  and  we  '11  be  guests  in  it.  May  must  be  mar- 
ried in  the  little  church,  and  the  children  will  strew 
primroses  j  and  Roger  will  take  her  to  the  ranch  for 
a  wedding-journey.  What  fun  she  will  have  with  my 
dear  old  brother  and  Paddy !  This  will  work  around 
for  your  benefit,  Ted;  for  Roger  will  have  to  live 
near  his  grandfather,  and  Billy  will  take  Patrick  for 
a  partner  on  the  ranch,  and  they  '11  make  loads  of 
money,  and  relieve  you  of  always  paying  up  for 
Paddy — don't  you  see?  Mr.  Woodbury  will  end  by 
adoring  May,  and  she  is  so  young  and  unformed,  she 
will  blend  with  things  over  there  nicely.  I  don't 
doubt  Lady  Watson-Jones  will  disinherit  May  for 
marrying  an  American,  and  leave  her  money  to 
found  a  hospital  for  cats,  with  an  effigy  of  Tom  over 
the  front  door.  But  dear!  that  little  paltry  sum 
beside  the  great  Woodbury  estate — " 

"  I  say,  Lucy,  how  you  are  clipping  along ! " 

"  But,  Ted,  I  always  do  when  I  am  excited ;  and  I 
want  you  to  remember  every  word  I  say  now,  and  see 
if  it  does  n't  come  true.  As  to  Polly,  I  am  dying  to 
have  her  Lady  Gilchrist,  if  it  were  only  to  be  even 


AN  ERKANT  WOOING  243 

with  her  for  the  horrid  things  she  said  when  I  was 
first  engaged  to  you.  Do  you  believe,  she  pretended 
to  think  all  Englishmen  of  title  ill-treat  their  wives 
and  squander  their  substance  in  riotous  living.  Oh, 
yes  j  that  is  the  common  opinion  about  your  class  in 
America,  and  I  often  wanted  to  shake  Polly,  to  per- 
suade her  otherwise.  I  've  bided  my  time,  but  I  '11 
throw  that  back  at  her  or  die  ! " 

"It  will  be  Greek  meeting  Greek,  and  may  I  be 
there  to  see.  But  how  will  Mrs.  Standish  submit  to 
having  her  daughter  taken  away  from  her  ? " 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Standish !  Her  sun  rises  and  sets  in 
Toodles.  But  Gilchrist  and  Polly  will  be  chasing 
back  to  America  every  year.  He  is  the  kind  to  pick 
his  wife  up  like  a  traveling-bag,  and  carry  her,  at  a 
moment's  notice,  to  the  land's  end." 

"Tell  me,  Lucy,  how  it  is  May  never  suspected 
Paulina's  fancy  for  her  papa?" 

"  Because,  stupid,  she  thought  when  Polly  had 
Roger  she  could  want  no  one  else.  Anyhow,  a  fair 
exchange  is  no  robbery." 

"  You  have  settled  it  admirably,  my  dear.  I  hope 
you  won't  kick  over  your  own  basket  of  glass,  and 
find  all  your  fine  dreams  shattered." 

"  Ted ! "  she  exclaimed,  a  trifle  sobered.  "  You  don't 
think  it  possible  Gilchrist  could  refuse  to  come  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  He  may  consider  it  folly  to  expose 
himself  to  her  attractions." 

"  Don't  talk  so  loud  —  there  comes  May.  May,  we 
are  just  praising  your  arcade  of  roses,  and  the  view 
of  the  snow  hills  one  gets  through  it.  And  what  a 
dear  little  house !  I  envy  you  it ;  but  I  suppose  we 


244  AN  ERRANT    WOOING 

must  n't  be  cuckoos,  and  want  to  rent  all  your  father's 
homes." 

"  I  wish  old  Woodbury  could  hear  you  on  the  sub- 
ject of  cuckoos  renting  homes,"  observed  Blount, 
dispassionately. 

THAT  afternoon  our  friends  decided  to  make  a  fare- 
well excursion.  A  drive  through  the  suburbs,  out 
into  the  powdered  dust  of  the  glaring  highway, 
brought  them  to  a  halt  under  a  series  of  caves  bur- 
rowed one  above  the  other  in  the  hillside,  their  black 
mouths  half  screened  from  observation  by  tufts  of 
ragged  cactus. 

"  They  are  like  the  dugouts  of  our  Western  fron- 
tier," said  Roger,  "  only  more  picturesque." 

In  a  trice  the  two  carriages  were  surrounded  by  a 
swarm  of  swart  men  and  women  and  children,  who 
vociferated  prayers  for  alms.  The  hill  brought  forth 
what  seemed  myriads  of  them ;  the  supply  appeared 
to  be  inexhaustible.  Sitting  smoking  at  the  cave 
doors  were  here  and  there  men  in  the  smart  costume 
of  their  tribe  —  head-kerchief,  jacket  and  breeches 
with  silver  buttons,  massive  earrings  of  gold  and 
silver. 

Chief  among  the  importunate  were  three  little 
girls  they  had  been  accustomed  to  see  begging  in 
the  Alhambra  garden,  one  of  them,  of  exceeding 
grace,  having  the  fascination  of  the  "  Serpent  of  old 
Nile."  This  Vivien  in  embryo  had  been  wont  daily 
to  plead  with  them  for  money,  to  coax,  to  dance,  to 
pose,  to  run  beside  their  carriage,  with  a  vivacity 
in  tone  and  gesture  altogether  seductive.  If  money 


AX  ERRANT   WOOIXG  245 

were  given  her,  she  would  expand  with  a  fervor  of 
blessing ;  if  refused,  she  would  spit  and  curse  after 
them  with  viperish  resentment.  Now,  on  her  own 
ground,  she  was  all  suavity.  Beckoning,  beseeching, 
she  conveyed  to  the  "Ingles"  an  invitation  to  visit 
one  of  the  caverns.  They  acquiesced,  and,  trans- 
formed into  a  guide  efficient  and  businesslike,  she  led 
the  way. 

In  the  gipsy  home  they  found  three  chambers  hewn 
in  the  rock,  the  smallest  a  kitchen  with  a  barred  win- 
dow blackened  by  escaping  smoke,  the  whole  other- 
wise as  neat  as  a  new  pin.  On  the  whitewashed 
wall  hung  pictures  of  the  saints  over  a  cup  of  holy 
water ;  a  shelf  held  gay  crockery,  a  tambourine,  and 
castanets ;  there  was  also  a  looking-glass,  before 
which  a  dark  woman  was  engaged  in  putting  a 
smack  of  pomatum  on  her  hair. 

In  the  rear  chamber  were  three  tidily  made  beds, 
to  accommodate  husband  and  wife,  grandmother, 
and  three  children.  A  table,  with  rush-bottomed 
chairs  and  cooking-utensils,  completed  the  furnish- 
ings. 

The  visitors,  received  by  a  bright  little  woman 
from  whom  they  had  often  bought  violets  at  the 
hotel,  were  greeted  as  old  acquaintances.  Bustling 
to  the  door,  she  beckoned  to  her  husband,  who  sat 
outside,  giving  the  air  to  a  baby  like  a  doll  of  yellow 
wax. 

The  baby,  reclaimed  from  the  arms  of  his  father, 
was  handed  around  for  inspection  with  every  token 
of  lively  hospitality.  With  her  red  petticoat,  orange 
spencer,  and  a  carnation  in  her  hair,  the  little  mo- 

17 


246  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

ther  darted  like  a  dragon-fly  about  her  establishment, 
showing  all  her  possessions  with  housewifely  pride. 
She  brought  in  and  introduced  the  crone  grand- 
mother, a  brother,  a  sister,  some  cousins  and  aunts, 
till  the  cave  was  crowded,  and  the  space  outside 
ringed  with  dark,  merry,  greedy  faces,  against  a  strip 
of  sky  over  the  red  battlements  of  the  Alhambra 
across  the  valley. 

One  of  the  gipsy  wives,  identifying  May  Grilchrist, 
kissed  her  hand,  and,  showing  her  own  white  teeth  in 
smiles,  poured  upon  the  fair  stranger  lavish  assur- 
ances of  which  puzzled  May  understood  not  a  word. 

"  Beg  pardon,  miss,"  observed  Gillson,  who  was 
standing  near  the  cavern's  mouth ;  "  she  says  Sir 
Piers  gave  her  help  when  her  man  was  ill;  and  she 
can  never  think  enough  of  him." 

"  I  remember  his  telling  me  of  some  pet  gipsy  of 
his,"  said  May.  "He  knows  and  likes  many  of  them  ; 
but  all  the  same,  he  does  n't  think  it  safe  for  strangers 
to  come  here  after  dark,  or  alone  and  unprotected." 

"I  hope  we  may  get  off  with  the  loss  of  nothing 
more  than  the  contents  of  our  pockets,"  said  Roger. 
"They  say  a  Spanish  gipsy  can  steal  the  stockings 
off  your  feet  without  touching  your  shoes." 

"She  wishes  to  tell  your  fortune,  miss,  through 
gratitude  to  your  papa,"  said  Gillson. 

"  Of  course,  of  course,  she  must  do  it,  May,"  said 
Lucy.  "I  wish  we  could  manage  to  pass  somebody 
else  off  for  Ted's  wife,  and  let  her  tell  my  fortune." 

"It  does  n't  require  gipsy  lore  to  find  out  that 
Lord  Edmund  belongs  to  you,  my  Lucy,"  said  Pau- 
lina, with  satire. 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  247 

" Oh,  Polly,  am  I  so  bad?  Wait,  wait;  you  will  be 
worse  with  the  husband  she  '11  give  you,  for  a  peseta," 
retorted  Lucy,  gaily. 

To  May,  from  whom  the  woman  refused  to  receive 
payment,  was  allotted  as  fair  a  presentment  of  Roger 
as  could  have  been  expected  from  the  artist  offhand 
—  a  description  punctuated  by  the  laughter  and  com- 
ments of  lookers-on,  until  both  young  people  thought 
they  were  ready  for  the  mountain  to  open  and  swal- 
low them,  as  it  had  been  wont  to  do  to  visitors  in 
legendary  days.  But  in  spite  of  their  embarrass- 
ment, each  wore  an  expression  of  conscious  bliss 
there  was  no  mistaking.  Roger,  under  the  new  con- 
dition of  affairs,  was  especially  transfigured. 

Polly,  with  a  pang,  decided  it  was  not  in  her  to 
confer  happiness  like  May  —  May,  the  guileless,  the 
shy  maiden,  whom  she  had  at  first  been  rather  dis- 
posed to  patronize  from  the  height  of  her  wider 
knowledge  of  mankind. 

Already  Roger  was  forgetting  her  presence  in 
May's.  Little  unintended  words  and  actions  left  no 
doubt  as  to  that. 

"Now  tell  her  she  may  read  my  hand,  Gillson," 
ventured  Lucy,  hardily. 

"  She  says,  my  lady,  as  how  your  fortune  is  made ; 
but  she  would  like  the  hand  of  the  young  lady  who 
is  looking  at  the  picture  in  the  corner,"  interpreted 
the  courier. 

"Yes,  Polly;  it  's  no  fun  where  one  backs  out; 
and,  whatever  you  may  say,  I  really  think  a  great 
deal  of  this  odd  creature's  wit  in  divining  that  I  be- 
long to  Ted,"  cried  Lucy.  "  Must  n't  Polly  have  her 


248  AN  ERRANT   WOOING 

fortune  told,  Mr.  Woodbury  ?  There,  Polly,  hold  out 
your  haud ;  she  will  have  to  be  clever  to  find  a  lad 
for  you  in  the  present  company." 

Paulina,  her  back  to  the  light,  showed  her  hand 
carelessly.  The  gipsy,  sitting,  scanned  its  lines  with 
apparently  deep  consideration,  then  dropped  it  with 
annoyance,  and  took  it  up  again. 

"  You  are  always  a  problem  to  the  occult,  not  to  be 
quickly  solved/'  whispered  gleeful  Lucy.  At  that 
juncture  a  new  figure  was  added  to  the  group  around 
the  cavern  door,  and  Sir  Piers  Gilchrist,  who,  arriving 
in  Granada  unknown  to  any  of  the  party,  had  walked 
out  in  pursuit  of  his  friends,  pushed  his  way  quietly 
to  the  front,  to  stand  there  looking  on. 

Before  any  one  else  had  observed  him,  the  fortune- 
teller, who  claimed  him  as  her  benefactor,  uttered  a 
quick  exclamation  of  delight.  Paulina,  following  in- 
voluntarily the  direction  of  the  woman's  eyes,  saw 
Gilchrist,  and  a  tremble  of  joy  ran  through  her.  As 
the  others  became  simultaneously  aware  of  his  pres- 
ence, May  sprang  to  meet  him  fondly,  Lucy  greeted 
him  with  cordiality,  Mr.  Woodbury  gave  him  hearty 
welcome.  Roger  and  Lord  Edmund,  who  had  their 
own  reasons  for  hesitating  as  to  the  manner  of  open- 
ing conversation  with  the  newcomer,  separately 
strolled  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  and  met  out- 
side, in  evident  perturbation. 

"  What  an  astonishing  little  person  is  that  wife  of 
mine ! "  Blount  was  saying  to  his  inner  self.  "  Here 
we  have  brought  this  fellow  to  Granada  upon  the  im- 
pulse of  the  moment,  and  have  put  ourselves  into  the 
biggest  kind  of  a  box,  and  I  don't  in  the  least  know 


AN  EERANT  WOOING  249 

how  I  'm  going  to  get  out  of  it.  But  she  —  equally 
at  fault  with  me  —  she  's  as  cool  and  composed  as  if 
in  her  own  drawing-room !  Whatever  her  situation, 
she  has  it  well  in  hand.  She  '11  set  the  business 
before  him  better  than  I  could.  By  Jove !  I  believe 
I  '11  just  leave  the  whole  thing  to  Lucy,  and  not  open 
my  jaw." 

In  the  breaking  up  of  the  party  to  go  away,  Pau- 
liua  stopped  behind  to  give  a  present  to  the  woman 
who  had  failed  to  tell  her  fortune.  Gillson,  at  her 
elbow  to  warn  her  against  displaying  silver,  inter- 
posed again  to  interpret. 

"  I  'm  asked  to  tell  you,  miss,"  he  said,  with  some 
show  of  embarrassment,  "  that  when  the  young  lady's 
fortune  was  on  its  way  to  her  the  gipsy  could  not 
see  it." 

"  That  will  do,  Gillson,"  said  Miss  Standish,  haught- 
ily, as  she  walked  over  and  joined  her  grandfather, 
slipping  her  arm  in  his.  It  was  past  a  jest  when 
people  like  these  took  up  her  relations  to  Sir  Piers. 

At  sight  of  tips,  the  earth  had  opened  to  yield  more 
gitanos,  who,  resuming  their  interrupted  escort  of  the 
strangers,  clamored  with  begging.  The  little  Vivien, 
liberally  recompensed  with  a  peseta,  pretended  to  cry 
because  it  was  no  more,  then  burst  into  elfish  laughter, 
and  hurled  after  them  vituperations  thick  and  fast. 
The  tumult  increased.  Men,  women,  and  children 
started  to  run  with  the  carriages,  according  to  custom, 
intending  to  make  a  pandemonium  to  the  very  out- 
skirts of  the  town. 

"  Will  nothing  stop  this  din  ? "  cried  Lucy,  putting 
her  hands  over  her  ears. 


250  AN  ERRANT   WOOING 

Gilchrist  smiled,  and,  after  assisting  to  place  the 
ladies  in  their  vehicles,  turned  back,  and  addressed  a 
few  words  in  their  own  tongue  to  the  rabble,  who, 
also  smiling,  held  off,  making  no  further  effort  to 
accompany  the  visitors. 

This  self-denial  on  the  part  of  the  gitanos  was 
promptly  rewarded  by  the  arrival  of  more  carriages, 
among  them  one  containing  the  newly  arrived  ex- 
Senator  and  Mrs.  Treat — their  courier,  half  turned 
upon  the  box  beside  the  driver,  as  ever,  in  the  act  of 
oratorical  explanation.  But  for  once  the  judge  did 
not  look  depressed  by  the  privileges  of  foreign  travel. 
He  held  his  head  erect;  animation  was  in  every  line 
of  his  keen  countenance. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Woodbury,"  he  cried  as  he  came  within 
earshot  of  that  gentleman,  "I  have  news  for  you. 

Senator from  my  State  is  dead,  and  my  friends 

over  there  have  cabled  me  to  come  right  home  in  time 
for  the  caucus  which  will  occur  when  the  legislature 
meets  for  the  election  of  his  successor.  Yes,  sir ;  we 
expect  to  take  the  steamer  that  touches  at  Gibraltar 
Wednesday  of  this  week." 

"  I  am  sure  the  country  will  be  the  gainer  by  it, 
judge,"  said  Mr.  Woodbury,  politely.  "  But  it  's  a 
pity  to  cut  short  your  Spanish  trip,  even  for  such 
a  patriotic  purpose." 

"  Well,  sir,  I  guess  I  've  about  had  the  best  of  it," 
was  the  radiant  response.  "  If  they  could  patch  up 
that  old  palace  of  Charles  V.  a  bit,  the  Alhambra, 
though  it 's  considerably  damaged  in  spots,  might 
be  better  worth  the  journey  in  those  slow  cars  from 
Seville.  I  was  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  inspect  the 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  251 

tombs  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  though.  "Well,  good 
day  to  yon.  See  you  at  dinner,  at  the  Washington 
Irving,  I  expect,"  and  the  judge,  with  a  gipsy  girl 
hanging  on  each  arm  and  coaxing  sweetly,  was  last 
seen  cheerfully  entering  the  exhibition  cave. 

"Sir  Piers,  you  must  not  walk  home.  You  must 
come  in  the  carriage  with  Ted  and  May  and  me,"  said 
Lucy.  "  I  have  something  to  say  to  you ;  and  if  Ted 
and  May  don't  object,  they  can  drop  us  at  the  Ala- 
meda,  and  we  can  talk  there." 

"  My  little  woman  is  a  Trojan,"  Blount  kept  think- 
ing, with  renewed  admiration  of  her.  He  had  served 
his  Queen  as  a  diplomatist,  but  as  yet  had  seen  no 
exit  from  the  difficulty  still  perplexing  his  brain.  And 
here  was  Lucy  already  dominating  the  affair  with 
charming  ease.  Here  was  Gilchrist  obeying  her,  with 
just  a  shadow  of  wonder  in  his  face,  which  could  not 
keep  entirely  unrevealed  a  sort  of  longing  after  the 
carriage  that  swept  Paulina  away  from  him. 

And  there  was  Paulina  driving  off,  vaguely  aware 
that  a  climax  was  at  hand,  her  one  wish  and  prayer, 
now  that  it  had  come,  to  escape  from  Gilchrist,  and 
to  keep  the  others  from  seeing  that  this  was  so. 

SIB  PIERS  and  Lucy  had  been  talking  for  half  an 
hour  on  a  secluded  bench  in  the  Alameda,  and  Lady 
Edmund's  expressive  face  could  not  conceal  a  certain 
blaukness  of  disappointment. 

"  After  what  you  told  me  at  Seville ! "  she  said,  with 
rebellious  intonation. 

"  I  told  you,  dear  lady,  that  I  love  her — " 

"  Then  — "  cried  Lucy,  interrupting. 


252  AN  EREANT  WOOING 

"And  that  I  had  no  right  to  say  so  to  her. .  Two 
weeks  have  not  altered  this." 

"  But  I  don't  understand,"  said  Lucy,  pitifully. 

"  What  has  passed,  although  it  changes  the  case 
immensely  for  Woodbury,  whom  I  have  promised  to 
see  on  my  return  to  the  villa  — " 

"Roger  ought  to  be  grateful  to  me  for  opening 
this  door  for  him.  But  he  won't.  They  never  are," 
interpolated  she.  "  They  think  so  at  the  time ;  but 
if  the  match  turns  out  well,  they  wonder  what  you 
could  have  supposed  you  ever  had  to  do  with  it.  If 
they  quarrel,  they  lay  it  all  at  your  door,  and  hate 
you  cordially.  I  wash  my  hands  of  lovers  !  " 

"Not  all,"  pursued  he,  with  a  smile  at  her  change 
of  tactics.  "  Don't  quite  give  us  up,  Lady  Edmund." 

"You  can  jest  at  it!  And  you  persist  that,  while 
you  may  try  to  accept  the  very  surprising  idea  of 
Roger  (who  was  never  loved  by  Paulina)  having 
fallen  in  love  with  your  beautiful  daughter,  you 
have  no  intention  of  following  up  that  circumstance 
to  your  own  advantage ! " 

"  Put  sentiment  aside,  and  listen  to  reason  from  a 
man  of  middle  age  — " 

"Oh,  don't!"  she  exclaimed;  "you  disappoint  me 
horribly.  I  liked  you  far  better  when  you  were  so  sad 
at  Seville,  and  I  went  to  my  room  and  cried  over  you." 

"I  hope  my  recording  angel  took  note  of  those 
tears  —  I  need  them,"  he  said.  "  Listen,  then,  if  you 
like  it  better,  to  the  voice  of  a  man  who,  having 
wrecked  his  own  youth  through  impulse,  does  not 
presume  to  wreck  that  of  the  young  girl  he  loves 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  253 

against  his  better  judgment.  What  would  you  say 
if  I  won  her  to  be  my  wife  ? " 

"That  you  —  that  she  —  why,  what  do  you  care 
what  the  world  says  about  your  marriage  ?  You,  an 
Englishman ! "  said  Lucy,  unable  to  resist  this  thrust. 

"What  would  Blount  say,  for  example?  He  's  a 
clear-headed  fellow,  a  man  of  the  world  —  what  has 
he  said  when  you  talked  over  this  with  him!" 

Lucy  was  silent.  Too  well  she  recalled  that  her 
husband  had  said  that  a  good  round  sum  out  of  old 
Woodbury's  pocket  would  bring  the  Wooton  Magna 
property  up  to  be  as  good  as  any  in  the  county. 

"  One  can  never  discuss  with  men,"  she  said,  gen- 
eralizing. "  They  wander  from  the  point,  and,  when 
you  advance  a  good  argument,  knock  it  down,  and 
jump  on  it." 

"Am  I  wrong  in  supposing  my  friend  Blount  had 
an  eye  to  my  worldly  advancement  when  he  sent 
that  telegram?  No,  Lady  Edmund;  you  are  too 
frauk  a  woman  not  to  admit  that  nine  persons  out 
of  ten  of  our  acquaintance  would  say  I  was  marry- 
ing this  girl  for  her  money  —  was  using  her  to  pull 
me  out  of  vagabondage  into  respectability ;  that  she 
was  throwing  herself  away  on  a  moody  wanderer 
twice  her  age,  who  had  taken  advantage  of  her 
youth.  Her  own  people  —  what  face  could  I  have 
before  her  grandfather?" 

"It  would  surprise  Mr.  Woodbury,  of  course.  I 
don't  think  he  has  a  glimmering  suspicion  of  it;  but 
new  experiences  and  shocks,  and  so  on,  seem  to  be 
having  the  best  effect  on  him.  Already  he  looks  fa- 


2*4  AN  ERKANT  WOOING 

vorably  upon  Roger's  hopes  of  getting  you  to  give 
him  May.  And  if  that  had  been  proposed  to  him  at 
home — well!" 

"Paulina's  mother  has  from  the  first  stabbed  me 
with  innocent  suggestions  of  our  disparity  in  years." 

"  Mrs.  Standish  is  at  heart  a  dove/'  cried  Lucy. 
"She  would  be  bewildered  for  a  while;  but  let  me 
tell  you  a  secret — I  think  she  would  soon  be  recon- 
ciled to  Lady  Gilehrist." 

"You  are  the  most  astute  of  tempters — but  no, 
no !  At  Italica  I  fought  my  fight  with  myself,  and 
won.  I  showed  her,  without  glossing,  what  I  am.  I 
made  her  distrust  me.  After  that,  how  can  I  in  de- 
cency do  anything  but  hear  what  "Woodbury  and 
May  have  to  say  for  themselves,  and  then  go  back 
into  my  solitude  and  try  to  forget  Paulina  ? " 

"You  will  have  ample  opportunity,"  she  said,  her 
voice  trembling  a  little  with  vexation.  "  To-morrow 
we  leave  for  good.  Be  sure  I  shall  do  my  best  to 
make  Paulina  forget  you.  She  is  not  one  to  be,  as 
it  were,  offered  by  her  friends — " 

"That  she  is  not!"  he  exclaimed  emphatically. 
"She  is  lovely,  beloved,  choice  —  one  can't  find  the 
right  epithets  for  her!  She  has  great  wealth,  un- 
limited opportunities.  She  will  soon  make  a  mar- 
riage worthy  of  her." 

"  It  is  time  enough  for  you  to  talk  of  her  marriage 
to  another  when  your  conscience  acquits  you  of  hav- 
ing tried  to  make  her  care  for  you,"  said  Lucy,  ris- 
ing, and  facing  him  dauntlessly.  "Now  you  will 
call  a  carriage,  please.  Poor  Eoger  will  be  all  im- 
patience awaiting  you." 


AN  ERRANT  WOOING  255 

"  But  you  will  let  me  say — " 

"Nothing!  I  speak  for  Paulina  also.  Nothing! 
I  think  already  we  have  said  too  much." 

lie  bowed,  and  they  walked  together  in  silence  to 
the  pavement,  where,  placing  her  in  an  open  cab,  lie 
let  her  go  alone,  saying  he  preferred  to  walk. 

"Have  we  quarreled?  I  don't  know,"  meditated 
Polly's  champion,  as  she  drove  over  stony  streets. 
'•  I  only  know  that,  if  this  fails,  I  can  do  no  more." 

Gilchrist,  picking  his  way  over  the  short  cut  up- 
ward to  his  home,  asked  himself  could  it  be  that,  in 
spite  of  his  best  intention,  he  had  erred  toward  the 
young  girl  he  held  more  than  ever  sacred  in  his 
heart.  Had  he,  on  the  occasion  of  their  talk  to- 
gether at  Italica,  betrayed  to  her  too  much  of  his 
overmastering  passion  ?  Was  he,  a  man  of  sensitive 
honor,  to  be  placed  in  the  strange  position  of  profit- 
ing by  what  he  had  meant  to  be  an  act  of  renuncia- 
tion? In  the  tumult  of  these  doubts,  even  at  the 
moment  when,  as  it  were,  he  now  seemed  almost  to 
touch  the  goal,  he  felt  a  new  pain  —  a  new  tempta- 
tion to  go  from  her  forever. 

SUNSET  in  the  Alhambra !  It  filled  halls  and  courts 
with  splendor,  bringing  out  the  old  tints  of  the  ara- 
besques, making  the  azulejos  glow  like  jewels,  and 
warming  to  rose-color  the  ivory  of  arch  and  fret- 
work. 

He  had  sought  for  her  under  the  citron-trees  in 
the  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  but  she  was  not  there.  He 
had  come  into  the  Court  of  Lions,  and  stood  alone  in 
that  temple  of  fairy  filigree  roofed  by  the  blue  sky, 


256  AN  ERKANT  WOOING 

while  looking  about  him  into  the  chambers  opening 
out  of  it.  If  he  should  not  see  her  in  one  of  these, 
he  had  determined  to  seek  no  more. 

The  snuffy  old  guardian,  who  had  directed  him, 
now  came  up  to  say  that,  in  admitting  the  senorita 
(a  beautiful  child  !),  she  had  coaxed  him  (with  a  smile 
like  his  daughter's,  who  was  dead)  to  let  her  visit  her 
favorite  spots  unattended.  He  had  even  unlocked 
for  her  the  door  leading  to  the  Tower  of  Comares,  so 
that  she  might  go  up  and  view  the  sunset. 

With  that,  Gilchrist,  who  had  long  had  the  free- 
dom of  the  place,  put  a  big  silver  piece  into  the  old 
man's  hand,  and  told  him  he  would  take  care  the 
senorita  should  come  down  in  safety. 

Mounting  with  eager  feet  the  corkscrew  of  stone 
stairs  where,  of  old,  ascended  kings  and  queens  to 
watch  their  hosts  marshaled  in  the  Vega,  he  found 
her  upon  the  battlement,  looking  toward  the  west, 
her  companions,  the  martlets,  flying  back  and  forth. 

"  I  have  been  with  Roger,"  he  said,  in  answer  to 
the  query  of  her  look.  "Your  maid  told  me  you 
were  absent  from  your  room,  where  the  others  believe 
you  to  be  now,  and  I  made  sure  to  find  you  here." 

"Well?"  she  said,  scanning  him  with  quiet  eyes. 

"It  is  settled  —  ridiculously  soon,  it  seemed  to  me; 
but  what  would  you  have  ?  Woodbury  and  May  are 
together  on  the  terrace,  with  old  Josefa  knitting  in 
the  arbor  near,  to  satisfy  Spanish  notions  of  pro- 
priety. I  am  to  lose  my  ewe  lamb." 

"We  will  have  every  care  of  her,"  Paulina  said, 
with  grave  gentleness.  "And  Roger  is  Roger,  as 
you  know." 


THE   GALLERY   OF   THE  COURT   OP   LIONS,  ALHAMBRA. 


AN  ERRANT   WOOING  257 

"I  know.  It  is  a  most  astonishing  windfall,  this 
of  my  new  son-in-law;  but  I  don't  underrate  the 
value  of  it.  May's  future  is  assured,  her  happiness 
certain.  Between  us,  half  a  globe  will  make  little 
difference.  It  will  give  me  a  fresh  zeal  in  explora- 
tion—  something  to  cross  the  sea  for.  But  that 
won't  be  yet  awhile."  He  ended  with  a  sigh. 

Paulina  said  nothing.  Her  gaze  had  turned  from 
him,  and  was  fixed  on  the  great  ball  of  fire  sinking 
into  the  snows  of  the  sierra. 

"Are  you  thinking  that  over  yonder  lies  your 
beautiful  western  continent,  and  that  you  are  going 
back  to  be  a  little  uncrowned  queen?"  he  said,  with 
an  attempt  at  playfulness.  "Where,  before  long, 
you  will  find  yourself  ruffling  the  leaves  of  your 
diary  to  recall  the  names  of  the  people  you  met  en 
mi/aye.  That  's  why  I  followed  you  up  here  above 
the  heads  of  other  mortals,  hoping  to  rise  above  them 
in  your  recollections.  If  you  go  to-morrow,  in  the 
gray  dawn,  as  is  threatened,  this  is  my  only  chance 
to  be  alone  with  you  again.  Twice  I  turned  away 
from  the  entrance  below,  and  finally  let  myself  be 
overcome  by  the  wish  for  a  last  word  undisturbed." 

"  No  more  last  words,  please,"  she  said.  "  I  prefer 
to  melt  away  from  people  and  places,  as  you  do. 
Surely  it  is  time  to  go  down.  The  poor  old  guardian, 
who  indulges  me  so  much,  must  be  tired  of  waiting 
to  lock  us  out." 

He  was  surprised  by  her  calm  speech,  so  devoid  of 
the  usual  energy  of  her  diction. 

"  One  moment,  and  the  sun  will  have  sunk  behind 
the  mountain,"  he  cried,  yearning  to  win  back  the 


258  AN  ERRANT  WOOING 

old  manner  that  had  enthralled  him.  "Out  of  a 
whole  lifetime,  don't  begrudge  me  one  moment  more. 
JSmile  on  me  as  you  used.  Mock  at  me  if  you  like. 
Tell  me  I  7m  a  madman  for  dwelling  a  thousand 
times  more  fondly  on  the  thought  of  you  since  I  so 
sternly  put  you  away  from  me  at  Italica.  Show  me 
anything  that  is  human,  that  is  Paulina  —  not  that 
unnatural  calm!" 

"  When  it  was  from  you  I  acquired  it — at  Italica?" 
she  said,  a  gleam  of  her  frolic  humor  coming  into 
her  eyes. 

"  There  !  There  is  my  will  o'  the  wisp  ! "  he  cried 
exultingly.  "  The  one  I  Ve  danced  after  all  these 
months  —  that  came  unsought  into  my  life,  to  rob 
me  of  hard-earned  peace  —  that  made  me  feel  the 
black  past  would  be  nothing  if  I  could  bring  you  to 
nestle  in  my  heart!  Fight  as  I  may,  you  conquer. 
I  love  you,  Paulina,  you,  you  —  I  love  you  —  do  you 
hear  ? " 

THE  Tower  of  Com  ares  was  forsaken  by  the  sun. 
The  martlets,  after  consultation  among  themselves, 
made  bold  to  hint  to  the  invaders  it  was  full  time  to 
go.  A  deep-mouthed  bell  in  the  cathedral  called  the 
evening  hour,  and  was  answered  by  other  church 
bells  far  away  upon  the  Vega.  Flowers  in  the  Al- 
hambra  gardens  folded  themselves  to  rest. 


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